


wildflower

by dyoang, soohaite



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Crossdressing, Disability, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, M/M, World War I
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-15
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2020-05-12 09:41:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 36,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19226551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dyoang/pseuds/dyoang, https://archiveofourown.org/users/soohaite/pseuds/soohaite
Summary: wild•flow•er/'wīld , flou(ә)r/noun1. a flower of an uncultivated variety or a flower growing freely without human intervention:"fields of wildflowers"Doh Kyungsoo is a seemingly odd child, raised by Catholic nuns in an orphanage. One day, he is sent to a Manor under his long lost uncle's care... Except he never shows up. Left to his own devices, the boy wanders around the gardens to pass the time where he meets a giggly boy surrounded by animals. Needless to say, Kyungsoo is enchanted.





	1. Missel Moors

1901.

 

The heather moorland covers up to 5,000 acres of land, surrounded with gardens, an abandoned swimming pool and small woods. Within the land stands a Grade 1 listed nineteenth-century Victorian house. It’s far too big to be a house, but too small to be a castle. Within the walls of the house, holds 45 bedrooms and 18 bathrooms. The house belongs to a man called Kim Jiwoo, who bought the building in 1890 for his wife. When the family had moved in, they were gifted with a precious child. Unfortunately, the mother suddenly turned sick after giving birth and didn’t survive the cold winter’s night.

 

Jiwoo was so heartbroken, he couldn’t live in the house anymore. He abandoned his newborn son and the beautiful home which he created with his love. He left in the dead of the night, the sleeping child tucked away in the warmth. Without leaving a trace, he went. Just like that.

In the morning, the baby’s cry woke the whole house up and the house servants discovered the disappearance of their Master.

 

 

 

 

1904.

 

Doh Kyungsoo was an unusual child. He never smiled and always had a scowl on his face. He didn’t talk, nor cry or laugh. Many said he wasn’t all there, and others said that he was ignorant. The four-year-old was passed from orphanages across the country. From a baby, he spent his life growing up without parents and didn’t know what a mother’s love was. He played alone, often talked to himself and taught himself how to read. Spending time in the library was one of his most treasured hobbies. He liked the quietness, the warmth of the sunlight on the bay window seat. It was Kyungsoo’s sanctuary.

 

The boy was dumped at the orphanage at a week old, his parents died in a tragic house fire leaving the baby the only survivor. He grew up in the arms of Catholic nuns, teaching him how to walk, talk and eat by himself. They took good care of all their children, but Kyungsoo was a hard child to understand. He always seemed emotionless, but at the same time, he was emotional. Screaming and tantrums happened several times a day, and in the spaces between, he was calm and collected.

 

Winters passed and Kyungsoo still stayed the same, his body still small and petite and his mind stuck somewhere else. By the time he was eight years of age, he found himself being moved. The housemaids packed all his belongings, not too little of clothing and a few of his favourite books which the nuns let him take. He had no idea where he was going, except that his Uncle had been searching for him for years and since he is the brother of his mother, he falls into his Uncle’s guardianship.

 

Kyungsoo had never met his uncle, nor did he know anything about him. He had never seen a picture or received a letter, so he was hesitant to leave his home of eight years. He didn’t have much choice, so he followed the head nun downstairs to the horse and carriage outside waiting for him. Kyungsoo wondered if his uncle sent him it, as the carriage looked expensive and not like the fragile ones the orphanage has that have seen better days. His belongings were placed inside and he was given a lift up into the high carriage with the help of the coachman.

 

“I hope you grow up well, my dear. It’s been a pleasure having you here,” Sister Hye said, holding the boy's small hands. She was an elderly woman who often spoiled the boys when she shouldn’t have. She tucked Kyungsoo’s long hair behind one ear and kissed him goodbye on the cheek. Before Kyungsoo could say anything, the carriage was moving away from his home, leaving the boy startled and falling back from the sudden motion into the wooden seat. He looked behind him through the small window as he watched the small town disappear and he was soon surrounded by marshes and hill sights peeking through the fog.

 

It would be a day’s ride to his new home, and Kyungsoo was already frozen within the first hour. The glass on the windows of the doors had fogged up from the bitter coldness, the small boy drew pictures on the glass to pass time and read the current chapter of his book. His fingers were becoming numb under the pages and the journey made him feel drowsy. Taking a blanket from his luggage, he lay across the bench curling his legs up to his chest and wrapped the blanket around his fragile body, hoping to catch some sleep before he arrived.

 

 

 

                                                            

 

 

 

A pothole shook the carriage and caused the boy to awaken. He yawned and stretched his limbs out until he felt his kneecaps crack. Sitting up he took a glance outside, he was surrounded by heather and woodlands that spread out for hundreds of miles. It was almost like the sea, the wind was rising and making a singular, wild, low, rushing sound like waves. He couldn’t see too far into the distance as the fog seemed to be getting heavier as they travelled. Soon the earth below the horse's hooves turned into a stone pathway, Kyungsoo opened one of the small windows and gasped as the cold air hit his lungs, he peeked his head out the window to see better. In the distance Kyungsoo could make out a house, but not just any house. It was enormous.

 

Missel Moor had more windows than Kyungsoo could count and four stories high. The bricks were the colour of oatmeal and the doors stood high and bold. Surrounding the house was greenery and gardens that looked like they hadn’t bloomed in years. The trees creaked in the wind and dew had gathered on the grass overnight. The house seemed too big, too empty and too silent. Small towers stood at each corner and a larger one in the middle of the house with an archway leading to the front door. The huge entrance door was made of curiously shaped panels of oak studded with big iron nails. The carriage came closer to the courtyard and Kyungsoo could spot an elderly woman standing at the entrance waiting. The boy’s bottom had turned numb from the uncomfortably hard seat and he was more than happy when the carriage started to slow down.

 

He waited for the coachman to open the door of the carriage and help him step down. Kyungsoo looked up in awe at his new home. Up close the building stood so high and he shivered at the sudden chill down his spine. Vines grew around four stories high around the windows and up to the towers. The elderly woman that had been waiting for Kyungsoo and had made her way towards the boy. She wore all black with a cameo brooch in the centre of her collared dress. Her hair was tied back neatly into a tight bun with wisps of grey hairs curling around her ears.

 

“Master Kyungsoo, we’ve been expecting you. My name is Anne and I am the head servant of Misselthwaite Manor. Your uncle isn’t here right now, but when he arrives you will be expected to meet him. For now, this is your new home. You’ll have to play about and look after yourself. You’ll be told what rooms you can go into and what rooms you’re to keep out of. There are enough gardens, but when you’re in the house, don’t go wandering and poking about.” Anne said while glaring down at the boy. He hadn’t made eye contact or said a word to the woman. He tightened his hold on his luggage and let Anne guide him inside.

 

The manor was warm, the heat hit Kyungsoo’s cheeks as he stepped inside, giving them a rosy glow. His large eyes scanned the interior while he was being guided through the large entranceway. A large wooden staircase curved around the walls of the house with huge paintings hung up on the walls. Kyungsoo’s short legs followed Anne upstairs and down a long corridor. The flooring and doors were mahogany and the paintings continued all throughout the house. Kyungsoo didn’t recognise anyone in the paintings, and he often stopped to admire them, forgetting about Anne.

 

“Stop stalling!” She snapped, causing the boy to whip his head in her direction and almost trip over his own feet as he ran back to her. They soon reached a door at the end of the hallway, Anne took out a huge hoop with hundreds of keys on and found the right one for his room.

 

The bedroom was big, with a huge four poster bed in the centre, a fireplace, wardrobe and sitting area. Kyungsoo stepped in curiously and gazed at all the minor details. The walls were covered with forest scene embroidered tapestry, the bed was made with six pillows that were the whitest cotton he’d ever seen. A small set of stairs was placed on the side of the bed so Kyungsoo could climb into as it seemed to have three mattresses. The room was bright due to the large windows which had a very large window seat with plenty of cushions for him to snuggle into and read.

 

Kyungsoo walked to the wardrobe and opened it to find that clothes were already placed inside that weren’t his. The room lacked furnishings but the boy was happy with what he had.

 

“We will bring your supper soon, you must be tired from the long journey. I think you should take a nap and after supper, it’s bath and bedtime for you,” Anne said while unpacking the small amount of clothing Kyungsoo bought. She reached over to a small bell near the bed and pulled it once.

 

Within a few minutes, a housemaid entered the room, she was young, in her early twenties and very beautiful. She had a kind face and wore a white pinafore over her dress. Her name was Jina and was carrying a silver tray with a warm bowl of porridge and a cup of tea, she settled the tray down on a table that was set near the fireplace and  Kyungsoo to sit down and eat.

 

“Jina, you will give Master Kyungsoo a bath after he has finished his supper. Then he can go straight to bed,” Anne said with a monotone voice. She left the room without saying goodnight and shut the heavy door.

 

“Don’t worry about her, she’s not always so cold.” Jina smiled and sat opposite the boy, Kyungsoo still hadn’t said a word to anyone and began eating. His porridge wasn’t sweet enough so he added a spoonful of honey, the house creaked and he couldn’t stop wondering about all the many rooms that were forbidden. When Kyungsoo had finished, Jina wiped his mouth with a handkerchief and went to the bathroom that was just off the side of the fireplace. She ran the small bathtub and added a few drops of lavender oil to help the boy sleep comfortably.

 

“Okay sweetie, let's get you undressed and in the tub,” she helped undress Kyungsoo and carried the small boy to the bathroom. The warm water felt wonderful on his tired body and he relaxed until his toes had thawed and fingers wrinkled. Jina used a white ceramic jug to pour water over Kyungsoo’s head, his long hair had fallen into his eyes but Jina soon scooped it back and lathered shampoo into his scalp.

During his washing, a faint, almost spooky cry shook through the house. Kyungsoo stopped his movements to listen in more, it got louder and then he could hear banging, footsteps and a door. Then it was silent.

 

After his bath, he was towel dried and dressed into a white nightgown that reached his shin. There was a lace trimming around the collar and long sleeves that fell over his hands.

 

The tiny boy jumped into his large bed and snuggled into the pillows, he was content but drained from the long journey. Jina sat on the edge and tucked the boy in.

 

“Do you need anything?” She asked, while combing Kyungsoo’s hair behind his ears.

 

“When can I see my uncle?” he finally spoke, fingers playing with the ribbon at the front of his nightgown.

 

Jina’s eyes sparkled hearing the boy speak, “when he arrives, he will see you.”

 

The noise was back again, the crying.

 

“Do you hear that?” Kyungsoo rose, staring at the ceiling. Jina seemed to not notice the sound, she curiously watched the boy.

 

“Hear what?”

 

“That noise. It sounds like someone is crying.”

 

“This house is old, it’s just the wind, sometimes it sounds like someone is crying,” Jina explained and settled Kyungsoo back into bed. She blew out all the candles except for the one on the bedside table.

 

“If you need me, just shout. Don’t leave this room, okay?”

 

Once the door was shut, Kyungsoo was left alone. The winds over Missel Moor was loud and the trees outside banged against the house. He laid in bed staring at the ceiling thinking about why his uncle wanted him to live with him when he had never met him, he wondered if any other children lived here and if he could possibly make friends.

 

And just before he dozed off, the sound was there again.

 

Crying


	2. Jongin

The sunlight crept in through the small gap in the thick curtains, Kyungsoo’s eyebrows furrowed and he turned over groaning. He slept like a baby, warm and comfortable. The winter’s morning was cold and his fire had gone out at some time in the early hours of the morning. He curled up and pulled the many covers over his head, and fell back asleep.

 

An hour later, he woke up again to the sound of Jina lighting up the fire and raking out the cinders noisily. Now it was lighter, the curtains had been drawn open and he could see his room better. The tapestries that covered the walls entirely were probably once very colourful, but now the greens and purples had faded to a strange grey colour. He wondered why the room needed so many tapestries.

 

“Did you sleep well?” Jina asked when she noticed the boy was awake. Wiping her hands down on a cloth, she poured Kyungsoo a cup of hot tea.

 

“Why is it so cold?” Kyungsoo replied to her question with another, he got out of bed and wrapped his dressing gown around his thin body. He sat in a chair closest to the fire and began eating even though he wasn’t a huge fan of oatmeal, but at least it was hot.

 

“‘Tis always cold in the winters. You’ll get used to it.” She replied and picked out Kyungsoo’s outfit for the day.

 

She lay on the bed a pair of brown trousers, a beige shirt and a knitted jumper. Before Kyungsoo arrived, Jiwoo ordered that clothes made from the most finest fabrics were to be sent from London.

 

Kyungsoo stared out of the wide window as he ate, where he could see a stretch of land that looked like an endless, dull, purplish sea. The wind had died down during the night and there was a little more sunshine peeking through the silver clouds. He took a piece of toast and spread some marmalade on, hoping that he could explore the house today or at least see his uncle. Jina combed her fingers through Kyungsoo’s long silky hair.

 

“We should cut young master’s hair,” she suggested. It was long enough to be tied back, wisps of hair fell into his large eyes.

 

“No.” Kyungsoo meekly said. He wasn’t fond of his hair being touched or cut, he hated the sound of scissors near his ears. The snipping and vibrations of each strand of hair getting louder made his skin shiver.

 

Jina sighed and decided to leave him be. Kyungsoo went off to brush his teeth and when he was finished, Jina stripped him bare as a baby and passed him his clothes for today.

 

“Can you dress yourself?” Kyungsoo nodded and slipped into his new garments. The trousers were thick and the shirt was a little long on the arms. When he was done, Jina helped him into his boots.

“It’s nice today, how about you go play outside?” she suggested, for there was no nursery or playroom, and Kyungsoo had to find his own entertainment.

 

“But it’s freezing! And what am I supposed to do?” Kyungsoo whined. He would be happy indoors by the fire reading a nice book. Or maybe exploring the house, surely this big manor had a library somewhere.

 

“There’s plenty of gardens for you to play in. Our Jongin plays out by himself all day, he even plays with the animals.”

 

“Who is Jongin?” the boy was suddenly interested. Maybe he could make a friend or have someone to talk about books with.

 

“Didn’t I tell you yesterday? Jongin’s my younger brother, he’s a few years older than you. He goes out and plays at the moors for hours.”

 

“Does he live here too?”

 

Jina laughed, she took out a long black duffle coat and helped Kyungsoo into it.

 

“No, he lives on the other side of the moor with my mother in a small cottage. Mother used to work here at Mistelwaite, but after Father died, she couldn’t bear coming back here.”

 

What happened? Kyungsoo wanted to ask, but he didn’t know how to. Sometimes he couldn’t find the right words to say, and his mouth would say the opposite of what he wanted. So, he often thought it would be best if he did not say anything.

 

Jina dressed Kyungsoo in a thick wool scarf and a red beret, tucking his hair back so he could see. She then took him by the hand and led him out the room, together they walked down the hallway. Kyungsoo could take everything in now that it was lighter. The emerald green walls, the chandeliers and hundreds of paintings. They reached the top of the stairs and Kyungsoo noticed that there were many maids cleaning, bringing trays of food and making sure each painting was upright. They walked through the kitchen, where the cook was already preparing lunch and singing while kneading the dough.

 

They reached the back door, and Jina adjusted Kyungsoo’s hat.

 

“You’ll need to be back by noon, okay? Or you’ll go without lunch.”

 

Before he knew it, he was outside in the bitter cold. What now? He thought. He turned around to give Jina a pleading look.

 

“Over there, that’s where the gardens are.” She pointed to a gate in a wall of shrubbery. There was not a flower in sight, and the moors were so quiet that Kyungsoo felt a tight knot in the pit of his stomach. He walked down the stone steps and turned down the walk which led to the door in the shrubbery. He found himself in great gardens, with wide lawns and winding walks with clipped borders. There were trees, and flower-beds, and evergreens clipped into strange shapes, and a large pool with an old grey fountain in its midst. But the flower-beds were bare and wintry, the empty fountain had long since spurt out any water.

 

He found many doors to different gardens, fruit trees, vegetable and flower gardens. Some doors he couldn’t open, as ivy gripped on to the wood, suffocating it. The gardens were in a maze that Kyungsoo wasn’t sure if he could get out of.

 

The cold made Kyungsoo’s cheeks numb, turning as red as his beret and his breath appeared as icy clouds of mist in the air. The trees blew in the wind, causing a loud cry to ricochet through the gardens. However, he noticed that the wind wouldn’t stop a robin fly to and sit on a waving branch, singing a soft tune. He watched the robin for a while until the wind turned and the robin flew away. He carried on walking through the maze, apples had fallen from their trees and lay on the cold ground, bruising and frosting. Kyungsoo carefully stepped over them as he didn’t want to get dirt on his boots. As he turned a corner, out of nowhere a huge black crow flew into his face.

 

He screamed, so shocked that he fell to the floor, landing on his bottom and eyes almost popping out of his face.

 

The crow squawked, flapping his long wings in Kyungsoo’s face. His butt hurt from landing on gravel, and he noticed a pair of worn-out shoes slowly approach in front of his own. The crow had flown away from Kyungsoo and perched on top of the owner of the worn-out shoes, making itself at home.

 

“He didn’t mean to frighten you.” a voice said. Kyungsoo’s eyes slowly averted to where he had heard the voice to see a boy, taller a little older than Kyungsoo. His skin was sun-kissed to a healthy olive and his hands were dirty. He had a dimple in his right cheek and eyes the colour of warm, golden honey. The taller boy helped Kyungsoo stand up, who was still amazed to see a crow sitting so happily on the male's shoulder.

 

“Are you Master Kyungsoo? I’ve heard a lot about you from my sister. She said you only arrived yesterday.” The boy gave a flashy smile, showing a set of pearly adult teeth. Kyungsoo had yet to lose his baby teeth.

 

Kyungsoo nodded, eyes quickly moving towards the ground. He wasn’t good at first impressions, and often got scolded when he didn’t greet guests or say hello to his fellow classmates. The boy reached over to fix Kyungsoo’s beret, which was now lopsided and Kyungsoo couldn’t help but stare at the boy’s face.

 

“I’m Jongin. It’s nice to meet you Mr Kyungsoo.” Jongin said cheerfully, he noticed Kyungsoo was still in shock with seeing such a tame crow, so he took hold of Kyungsoo’s hand.

 

“He doesn’t bite, he wants you to stroke him.”

 

Kyungsoo pulled his hand back. “He’s dirty, full of diseases!”

 

“No, he’s not. His feathers are really soft and he cleans himself. Just touch him.” Jongin grasped the boys smaller hand and peeled away a glove, he bought his hand closer to the crow. Kyungsoo flinched when the crow moved, but Jongin’s honey eyes softened and didn’t leave the other boy.

 

“Trust me,” he smiled.

 

Kyungsoo’s fingers delicately touched the bird's feathers, with a surprise he marvelled at how soft it really was. The crow leaned into the touch and Jongin smiled at the contact. “See? No diseases here.”

 

The boy stood stiff still, eyes wide with curiosity and plump lips slightly parted, unsure whether to move away or not. After some hesitation and grimacing, his eyes met Jongin’s warm and welcoming ones, and eventually started petting the creature, fingertips soothing the bird’s silky cover. He then decided that the crow was not scary, but gentle and friendly. Although touching animals was a bit beyond his comfort zone, he always liked to read about them, and seeing one beyond the yellowed, dusty pages over candlelight made him wonder what other animals Jongin was friends with, and if he could be friends too.

 

“Crows are very intelligent birds. They can recognise faces and tell other crows which human is kind or mean.” Kyungsoo announced. “I’m afraid I haven’t read enough books on birds though.”

 

Jongin was taken aback by the statement. He found the boy to be quite odd, but his mother always told him to be kind and never judge others. He could see that the boy was shivering, so he put Kyungsoo’s glove back on his now cold hand and kept his hands on top of the other’s for a while to warm them up, fingers gently caressing the odd boy’s nimble hand a little too long, until he came to his senses and abruptly took them away.

 

“What’s your favourite book, Master Kyungsoo?”

 

Kyungsoo scoffed, laughing. “That’s impossible to answer. That’s like me asking what is your favourite animal, or your favourite flower. There are so many in the world, I cannot possibly choose.” he replied thoughtfully.

 

His meeting with Jongin was different from others. Most children thought he was weird and often ran away or ignored him. Kyungsoo liked it when people asked him questions about himself, about his favourite things - mostly books. He could talk forever about his favourite stories, from knights and dragons, to the wonders of the world and poetry.

 

They ended up walking around the gardens for hours, talking about almost everything. Jongin showed Kyungsoo how to call for a robin, the same robin that he saw earlier. He learnt that Jongin was 3 years older than him and lives with his mother in a small cottage on the other side of the moors. Jongin was from a poor family, he had never been to school or owned any fancy toys. He learnt how to play by himself, and when he was 6 years of age - he helped a pony who was stuck in a ditch, who now follows him around and comes running when he sees him.

 

Although Kyungsoo grew up in an orphanage - he counted himself lucky. He taught himself how to read, and from the books he read he taught himself everything he needed to know.

He looked around at where they currently were. There was no colour apart from white, covering all the flowers that had died when the bitter winter arrived and only soil and dead leaves sat on the ground. Kyungsoo wondered what it was like here when spring arrived, when gardens bloomed and the sun kissed your skin.

 

“Everything here is dead, so cold,” he said. They stopped at the abandoned swimming pool and Kyungsoo observed his reflection in the murky water.

 

“When spring arrives, you’ll be surrounded by flowers. They’ll be so many roses, you’ll get sick of them.” chuckled Jongin. “Kim Jiwoo’s wife always loved roses, and she had them planted all around the gardens.” he kicked around a pile of brown leaves by his feet.

 

“Why is Jiwoo never here? Your sister told me she has only seen him a few times.”

 

“Since his wife died, he just stopped coming.” a wave of sadness suddenly crept over Jongin’s face, as he gradually stopped his kicking.

 

Kyungsoo didn’t know what to say then. Why would his uncle adopt him if he’s never around? He was very confused and had many questions, but he wasn’t sure if Jongin was the right person to ask.

 

A gust of wind appeared out of nowhere and the branches of the surrounding trees tangled together, trapping the mere sunlight from passing through the cracks. It was loud and penetrating, bitter cold on Kyungsoo’s cheeks. He figured it must be around noon now, he had been out with Jongin for hours.

 

“I should go now.” Kyungsoo announced, he looked around wondering which way was back to the house. Jongin chuckled and took him by the hand.

 

“I’ll take you back so that you don’t get lost, otherwise you could be stuck out here forever. There are so many hidden gardens that even I haven’t discovered them all.”

 

They walked back to the path that leads to the house in a comfortable silence, and Jongin bid Kyungsoo goodbye and promised to see him tomorrow, to which he simply nodded back and turned towards the house.

 

 

 

 

                                                     

 

 

Kyungsoo was glad to be back in the warmth as he entered the house, and he sat down in the huge dining room by the fire. The table was long, fit for at least twenty people, yet he felt so small being the only one eating.

He wondered why in such a big house, he was the only occupant other than the housemaids. Surely there were times where the house contained a family, with children playing and big fancy dinner parties.

 

He finished lunch and let Jina take his plates. He hoped he wasn’t being kicked out in the cold again, but surprisingly Jina took him to a large library in the west wing of the house. Bookcases stood from floor to ceiling and surrounded every wall. He gasped in amazement, mouth open in a huge smile in front the plethora of pages, ready to be opened. He was in heaven.

 

There was a recently lit fireplace, warming the armchairs and thick fur rugs for Kyungsoo to sink into, the windows faced the abandoned swimming pool outside and in the distance, he could see a few horses in the moor. He wondered if Jongin was still outside.

 

Kyungsoo spent his entire afternoon in the library, he found many books that he had always wanted to read, including new ones that seemed interesting enough. He noticed that some books were so old, they were falling apart. He found a book on common garden birds and spent hours laying on his stomach, the fire blazing on his skin while he kicked his legs in the air. He felt so content, like he could stay there forever. He wouldn’t even mind if Jongin came once in a while to read books with him. Usually, Kyungsoo didn’t like people touching his things, but he could possibly make an exception for Jongin.  

 

 

 

The day ended quickly as the sun was already setting before he had eaten his supper.

 

He took a few of his books to his room, planning to read them in bed. His supper was brought into his room again, which consisted of lamb, plenty of vegetables and a glass of milk. When he had finished, Jina had shut his curtains, dressed him into his night dress and he was sent to bed early.

 

Kyungsoo lay in the darkness staring at the ceiling. He wasn’t sleepy and his mind wouldn’t shut down. He could hear the maids walking around the house, pans clashing and the maids’ distant,  murmuring voices. He kicked the covers off and took the chamberstick that was beside his bed. In the darkness, he moved over to one of the armchairs and picked up one of his books that he borrowed. It was difficult reading in the dark with only a small candle giving light, so he had to hold it close to the pages and candle wax would drip onto his hand and the pages.

 

Hours passed by and his eyes eventually started to droop. He placed his book down and crept back into bed. As soon as he blew out the candle - the noise he heard next frightened him so much that his whole body froze still.

 

The crying again, except this time it was echoing throughout the house. The crying wasn’t the same as last night - it was screaming, as if the person was being tortured. It scared Kyungsoo so much that he got out of bed and took his blanket, dragging himself under the four-poster bed. He curled up, covering his body with the blanket and lay as still as possible. His heart was beating out of his chest so much so that he could feel it through his ribcage. He lay for what felt like hours, listening in. He could hear the voice of Anne, followed by other female voices. Once the crying had started to disappear, he eventually fell asleep on the cold, hard floor.

 

 

During the night, Kyungsoo tossed and turned, sweating to a great degree. He was in a garden surrounded by flowers in bloom. The summer heat beamed down on his skin. He was running through long grass, just a baby of 2 years old. Through the long grass was his mother, wearing a long summer dress and a large straw hat. She called his name, her voice as soft as daylight.

“Kyungsoo… my baby, come here. Come to Mother.” She held her hands out, Kyungsoo waddled towards her - cheeks rising as he grinned from ear to ear.

 

“Come here baby.”

 

All of a sudden, a gush of wind appeared. Kyungsoo’s mother’s hat flew off her head, and disappeared into the forest nearby, she backed away from Kyungsoo. And then out of nowhere, she turned around and ran away from her son.

 

Kyungsoo stood alone in the long grass, crying out for his mother, only to have the howling of the wind calm down, but she never returned.

 

Kyungsoo woke up crying.


	3. Ghost in the Wind.

Each day which passed by for Doh Kyungsoo was exactly like the others. Every morning he awoke in his tapestried room and found Jina kneeling upon the hearth building his fire; every morning he ate his breakfast by the fire which was either porridge or eggs, bacon and bread. After each breakfast, he gazed out of the window across to the huge moor, which seemed to spread out on all sides and climb up to the sky, and after he had stared for a while he realised that if he did not go out he would have to stay in and do nothing - and so he went out.

 

After his first meeting with Jongin, he, surprisingly, only saw him from time to time. Kyungsoo wished he could see more of Jongin, but he could never find him in the huge gardens and moor. Whenever they did meet, Kyungsoo found himself becoming more comfortable with the elder and even going out of his comfort zone to let Jongin touch him and show him how to pet all the wild animals that seemed so tame in Jongin’s touch.

 

Whenever Kyungsoo did go out, he would run along the paths and down the avenue, increasing his rate of circulation, and making himself stronger by fighting with the wind which swept down from the moor. He ran only to make himself warm, he hated the wind which rushed at his face and roared and held him back as if it was some giant he could not see. But the big breaths of rough, fresh air blown over the heather filled his lungs with something which was good for his whole thin body.

 

After a few days spent almost entirely outside after arriving at Misselthwaite, he awakened one morning curious and intrigued about what secrets lie in the house. He had many questions, Where was his uncle? Why couldn’t he go to any other rooms except his own and the library and what was the cry in the corridor so late at night?

 

He took his time eating his breakfast, fearing the cold outside soon to come. Luckily, there were a few rainy days, so the boy was delighted to stay inside and read. He wondered if Jongin was allowed to come over and play in his room. Maybe they could play hide and seek in the huge house. After he ate, he was shoved outside once he was dressed warmly. He couldn’t wait for the spring to arrive, the winter days were becoming unbearable.

 

Once he went outside, there was nothing to do. He walked round and round the gardens and wandered around the paths in the park, which was the place he went to more often than others. It was a long walk outside the gardens with walls around them. There were bare flower-beds on either side of it and ivy grew thickly against the walls. There was one part of the wall where the creeping dark green leaves were bushier than elsewhere. It seemed as if that part had been neglected for a long time. The rest of it had been clipped and made to look neat, but this lower end of the wall had not been trimmed at all.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Kyungsoo stopped to notice this and wondered why it was so. He had just paused and was looking at a long spray of ivy swinging in the wind, when he saw a gleam of vermillion and heard a chirp, and there, on the top of the wall, perched the red robin breast he saw a week ago when he first met Jongin. He was tilting forward, looking at Kyungsoo with his small head on one side.

“Oh! Hello!” he cried out, he whistled like how Jongin taught him. It did not seem strange to him that he spoke to the robin as he was sure that he had understood and answer him.

 

The robin did answer. He twittered and chirped and hopped along the wall, as if he were telling him all sorts of things. Kyungsoo followed him, and every now and then the robin stopped to check if the boy was still there. The robin whistled back at Kyungsoo, and at last spread his wings and made a darting flight to the top of a tree, where he perched and sang loudly.

 

It reminded Kyungsoo of the first time he had seen him. He walked along the path, following the ivy-covered wall until he noticed a very tiny hole in the wall, big enough for a brick to sit there. Kyungsoo stood on his tiptoes to see if he could see through the hole, but he was far too small and could only see even more ivy. He decided to follow the wall, to see if there was an entrance but each corner and end he found no door. He wondered what was on the other side of the wall, and why there wasn’t a door.

 

Kyungsoo was so curious, he spent the whole morning running around in circles trying to find the entrance. He wondered if Jongin knew about the mystery beyond the wall.

 

This gave him so much to think about, maybe he and Jongin could climb over the wall. Or perhaps they could ask one of the gardeners if they could borrow a ladder so the curious boy could see what was hidden.

 

He ran back to the house when it was noon to get lunch. The food wasn’t particularly to his liking, but from being outside in the cold all day gave him an appetite. Kyungsoo sat by the fire and ate quietly, his hair had been tied back into a short ponytail, by courtesy of Jina, on the top of his head, that and his rosy cheeks making him resemble an apple. Yet Kyungsoo still managed to pull his bangs forward so they were in his eyes. Jina didn’t understand Kyungsoo and his hair. Although she didn’t like to provoke him, Jiwoo would question how a young man could look so scruffy with such long hair, that is, if he ever meets his nephew.

 

Kyungsoo didn’t know why he liked his hair long and tangled. He liked it in his eyes and covering his ears. As a toddler, Kyungsoo would fall asleep with his chubby fingers wrapped in his hair. And if anyone was to sleep next to him, his hands would find a way into theirs and he would tug. It comforted him, the fine silky strands wrapped around his fingers. As he got a little older, by the age of four, Kyungsoo started tugging his hair so much that it started to fall out. Small patches around his ears and the front of his hairline were bare. No one really understood why, and Kyungsoo didn’t either. He just knew that it made him feel safe and comforted.

 

Eventually, the hair pulling stopped when he turned six, and his hair grew back over the summer. But to this day, when Kyungsoo was upset, he would lie in bed and wrap his fingers around a chunk of hair and tug lightly.

 

After lunch, the boy decided to go read in his room. He was tired from running around outside, he was a little upset that he didn’t see Jongin today, but it was still early and he had plenty of time to go outside and find him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Later that day, around three o’clock, Jongin surprised Kyungsoo by turning up at the manor house. He took the younger boy by the hand and led him outside to a field that was through a long stretch of land covered by trees. In the field was a small honey-coloured pony and its mother grazing the grass. Jongin walked over to the baby and patted his head. The pony seemed happy to see the boy and his mother trotted over to say hello too.

 

“His name is Whiskey. When he was a youngling he got stuck in a ditch and cried for hours. I pulled him up and ever since, he follows me around everywhere. He’s always so happy to see me.” Jongin smiled while combing Whiskey’s thick mane. Kyungsoo thought the pony was cute but a little bit scary, his teeth could nibble his fingers away if he were ever to feed him.

 

Jongin gestured for him to come closer, he took Kyungsoo’s hand in his own and placed it on Whiskey’s head. “Don’t be scared of animals, you’ll find that they are more scared of you than you are of them,” Jongin said calmly, he placed his own hand over Kyungsoo’s and smiled down at the boy. Jongin’s hands felt warm under Kyungsoo’s nimble fingers, his stomach felt strange for a few seconds during the short touch. He continued raking his fingers through Whiskey’s mane, it felt quite wonderful being on the open fields alone with Jongin. The evening was arriving early and soon the winter sky would be turning from grey to glowing pinks and warm oranges.

 

Jongin went over to a fence, where a green bucket was hanging off the post. He picked it off and swung it lightly as he walked back to Kyungsoo. Inside were carrots, leftover vegetables and some hay.

 

“Would you like to try feeding him?” Jongin asked, he took out a carrot and showed Kyungsoo how to do it. Whiskey gently took the carrot out of Jongin’s hands and crunched loudly. The younger boy watched with fascination, Jongin was so good at doing that. He thought Jongin was good at a lot of things, even though he wasn’t book smart like himself, Jongin had his own kind of intelligence that Kyungsoo admired.

 

The boy reached into the bucket and took out a handful of hay, he flinched when Whiskey’s mouth came near his hands, Jongin noticed the sudden anxiety and cupped his hands over his. Together they fed the pony and Kyungsoo felt a sudden wave of achievement. The warm hands of Jongin on his own gave him some kind of power he did not know he had. For the first time since Kyungsoo arrived at Misselthwaite, he smiled.

 

“Wow.” Jongin gasped. “That’s the first time I’ve seen you smile!”

 

Kyungsoo immediately scowled. He didn’t understand why it was such a big deal for someone to smile.

 

“Forgive me Master Kyungsoo. I didn’t mean to offend you. I was just so surprised to see such a beautiful smile on such a sad boy,” the tanned boy apologised softly. The sun started to set, the golden skies reflected in Jongin’s warm eyes and lit up his face. The two stood side by side for a while, feeding both ponies and Kyungsoo sat and watched Jongin brushing their manes. As he watched the sunset illuminate Jongin’s frame, he thought about the wall he found earlier. His curiosity got the best of him again.

 

“Do you know what’s over the high wall?” He said out loud.

 

“High wall?” Jongin replied, he had finished caring for the ponies and now the pair were walking back through the gardens.

 

“There’s a wall covered in ivy and it goes on for ages. I’ve circled it many times, but I cannot find the door.”

 

Jongin bit his chapped lips and shoved his hands into the pockets of his waistcoat. “Could be the garden Master Jiwoo had locked up ‘bout six years ago.”

 

“Garden? Why did he lock it?”

 

Jongin shrugged. “No idea. After she died, Jiwoo changed.”

 

This got Kyungsoo thinking even more. “Surely there is a door? It cannot possibly disappear!”

 

“Oh, there is a door. But I am not certain where it is, as I have never been in there,” Jongin replied, he was now walking with a stick he found on the ground and using it to lightly hit against trees and raking through the leaves on the earth.

 

The garden didn’t seem to show as much interest to Jongin as it did to Kyungsoo, and he didn’t understand why. Being at Misselthwaite somewhat gave him so many interests other than reading. The fresh wind from the moors blew the cobwebs out of his young brain and woke him up a little.

 

During the evening, Kyungsoo found it difficult to sleep once Jina had left him. His brain refused to shut off and it was quieter than usual. There were no footsteps from the servants, no pots clamping in the kitchen and certainly no crying. It had been a few nights since Kyungsoo had heard the mysterious crying.

 

He was suddenly inspired by an idea. He made up his mind to go and find it himself, he was not troubled about Anne, who seemed always to be in her comfortable housekeeper’s sitting room downstairs. In this strange place one scarcely ever saw anyone at all. In fact, there was no one to see but the servants. Kyungsoo’s meals were served regularly, and Jina waited on him, but no one troubled themselves about him in the least. Anne came and looked at him every day or two, but no one inquired what he did or told him what to do. It made him feel incredibly lonely.

 

Kyungsoo got out of bed, taking the chamberstick with him and opened the door of the room, he went into the corridor and was met with darkness. He began his wanderings, the corridor was long and it branched into other corridors. It led up to short flights of steps which mounted to others again, there were so many doors and just as many pictures on the walls, Kyungsoo glanced as he tiptoed through the house. Some of the pictures were dark, containing curious landscapes, the majority of them were portraits of men and women in strange grand costumes made of satin and velvet.

 

He had never seen so many pictures, and as he walked further into the darkness, the faces in the pictures seemed to stare at him. He felt as if they were wondering what an odd little boy was doing in their house. Some were pictures of children - little girls in thick satin frocks that reached to their feet, and boys with puffed sleeves and lace collars - or even big ruffs around their necks. He stopped at all the pictures of children and wondered what their names were, where they had gone and why they wore such odd clothes.

 

It seemed as if there was no one in all the huge rambling house but his own small self, sauntering about upstairs and down, through narrow passages and wide ones, where it seemed to him that no one but himself had ever walked. So many rooms had been built, people must have lived in them, but it all seemed so empty that he could not quite believe it.

 

All the doors were shut, just like Anne had said, yet Kyungsoo’s curiosity reached out to him and he put his hand on the handle of one of them and turned it. He was almost frightened for a moment when he felt that it turned without difficulty and that when he pushed upon the door itself it slowly opened into a big bedroom. Like his own room, there were embroidered hangings on the wall and inlaid furniture. A broad window with leaded panes looked out upon the moor; the moon was bright and full. In the far distance, Kyungsoo could see a small amber light. He wondered if that was where Jongin lived.

 

After that, he opened more doors and explored. He became tired of seeing so many rooms that he began to think there must be a hundred, though he had not counted them. In all the rooms there were old pictures or old tapestries with strange scenes worked on them. There were curious pieces of furniture and ornaments in nearly all of them. In one room, which looked like a lady’s sitting room, the hangings were all embroidered velvet, and in a cabinet were about a hundred little rabbits made of ivory. They were of different sizes, from the length of his pinkie finger and some as big as his fist. He set the chamberstick on the cabinet and opened the door, he sat on a footstool and played with the rabbits for quite a long time. When he got tired he set them back, arranged them in order of size and shut the door.

 

He decided he was tired of walking and turned back to where he came from. Two or three times he lost his way by turning down the wrong corridor, but after a short amount of time, he reached his own floor, though he was some distance from his room and didn’t exactly know where he was.

 

He stood in the darkness, only the single candlelight being his guide. The corridors were so long that he couldn’t see what was ahead of him for a few feet. The stillness of the night was suddenly broken by a sound. It was the cry again, but not quite like the one he had heard before. It was only a short one, a fretful, childish whine, muffled by passing through walls.

 

Kyungsoo’s heart began to beat faster, his hands clamming up and the hairs on the back of his neck stood still. He put his hand accidentally upon the tapestry near him, and then sprang back, feeling quite startled. The tapestry was the covering of a door which fell open and showed him that there was another part of the corridor behind it, Anne was coming up it with her bunch of keys in her hand and a very angry look on her face.

 

“What are you doing here?” She hissed, grabbing Kyungsoo by the arm and pulling him away. “What did I tell you about poking around?”

 

Anne dragged Kyungsoo down the corridor, chamberstick forgotten on a table and ignored Kyungsoo's pleading. She was firm and did not care about being quiet or gentle to the boy, and pushed him inside his room. Anne said nothing but scowled at Kyungsoo and slammed the door.

 

The small, confused boy sat on the hearth-rug pale with rage. He did not cry, but anger washed over throughout his body. He did not understand what he had done wrong. Shaking from both fear and anger, he slowly strolled to his bed and covered himself fully with the bedsheets after taking his shoes off, but leaving his clothes on. Hiding his head in the bedsheets, he drew deep, hitched breaths as he attempted to calm himself down. He started to soothe and pull at his hair again until he fell asleep.

 

 

 

 

 

In the morning, the winds woke Kyungsoo up. They roared throughout the house and rattled the glasses and silverware in the large dining room. The hollow, shuddering cry rushed round and round the house, as if a giant that no one could see were buffeting it and beating at the walls and windows to try to break in. Jina had just opened the door by the time Kyungsoo had sat up and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.

 

“Good morning young master, I heard you were out strutting around the house in the night. You gave Anne quite a shock” Jina laughed softly, her eyes crinkled the same way Jongin’s did when he smiled.

 

“I do not strut,” the boy replied hotly, he was still upset for Anne being so cross with him. He ate his breakfast with a frown on his face, and when he was finished - Jina began to prepare him for a bath. Jina talked a lot, sometimes too much, but Kyungsoo’s brain would usually zone out and he would only tune in for the things he found interesting. Yet he never asked questions.

 

In the bath, Jina chatted away like there was no tomorrow. She mentioned Jongin a few times which had Kyungsoo’s ears perk up like a dog’s. She talked about how spring was just around the corner, but Kyungsoo didn’t understand how as it felt like there would be no spring or summer here due to the dead earth.

 

Jina talked about how pretty the gardens are in the spring, and that the whole moor is swarming with colour and the air smells like honey.

 

“Why did my uncle lock up the garden?” Kyungsoo suddenly asked. Jina blinked several times and sighed. She sat on the floor of the bathroom on a soft rug while Kyungsoo lay back scooping the bubbles around him.

 

“Our Jongin told you right?” he nodded, waited for Jina to continue. “Anne said it's not to be talked about. There are lots of things in this house that’s not to be talked over. That’s Kim Jiwoo’s orders. His troubles are none servants’ business. The garden belonged to his wife, Cho Minsoo who had made it when they were first married and she just loved it, and they used to tend the flowers themselves. None of the gardeners were ever to go in themselves. The married couple would stay in them for hours, just talking or reading. Ever since she died, Jiwoo locked the garden up and threw away the key.”

 

“How did she die?” Kyungsoo asked curiously, he felt sorry for his uncle.

 

“I am unsure. I have heard many things, but I don’t know the truth,” Jina’s eyes glazed with a sadness Kyungsoo hadn’t seen before. He did not ask any more questions and decided to let it rest for now.

 

While Jina was rubbing Kyungsoo’s hair with a fluffy towel, she combed through the tangles but the boy winced and pulled away.

“You have many knots, if your hair was shorter it would not be this messy,” she advised. Kyungsoo sat on the chair in the bathroom with his bathrobe around him moving his head away from Jina’s touch.

 

“I think it would be best if we cut it now, I won’t be able to unknot it with you moving around like that.” She opened a drawer by the vanity and took out a pair of silver scissors. Kyungsoo’s heart began to speed up, he stood up and ran into the bedroom. Jina followed him and didn’t understand why he was behaving the way he was so suddenly.

 

“Don’t cut it.” He said, hands balling into fists and coming to rest just under his chin. He stood in the corner of the room, feeling safe with two walls protecting him.

 

“It’s just scissors, they won’t hurt you.” She tried to soothe and began to walk closer to him, closing him in between the walls. She reached out to take a clump of knots, but Kyungsoo reacted quickly and moved his head.

 

“Don’t move Kyungsoo!” Jina raised her voice for the first time, and tears began to form in his eyes and sting as they made their way down his cheeks. She managed to snip one clump of hair, the sound vibrated in his ears and panic rose in his chest. All of a sudden, out of nowhere - Kyungsoo pushed Jina with all his strength and slapped her around the face. She looked at him with disgust, holding her burning cheek with one hand and the scissors in the other.

 

She turned around and stormed her way out of the room, shutting the door. Kyungsoo slammed his tiny fists on the huge wooden door, tears prickling. He did not understand why he hurt Jina. He did not understand why she was so angry with him.

 

Kyungsoo was frustrated and it made him even more upset. He banged his head several times on the door and tangled his fingers through his hair. He pulled and pulled until he felt a little better.

 

After a while, Kyungsoo sat on the floor by the fire. He assumed he would not be allowed to go outside today. Usually, when he acted out in the orphanage, he was locked away in his room without his books or anyone to talk to. He didn’t understand himself, and he felt a great wave of sadness over him. More than anything, he wished that Jongin was with him right now.

 

At that very moment, Kyungsoo’s cries were replaced with another. The same mystery crying. A door must have been opened somewhere downstairs; for a great rushing draught blew along the passage and the door of the room he sat in was blown open with a crash. As he jumped to his feet, the light from the fire was blown out and the crying sound was swept down the far corridor, causing it to be heard more plainly than ever. Kyungsoo’s eyes, glassed with unshed tears, widened and his bottom lip started to tremble in a sob, eyebrows furrowed with worry, as he covered his ears and began to scream.


	4. The Door to the Garden.

When Kyungsoo rose the following day from his slumber, the rain poured down in torrents again. He looked out of his window, and saw that the moor was almost hidden by grey mist and cloud. This meant that he wouldn’t be able to go out today. Jina once told him that Jongin doesn’t mind the rain. Jongin would go out just the same as if the sun were shining, often preferring rainy days as the outside was different to when it was fair weather.

Kyungsoo stayed in his room all day, leaning his head against his hand looking out at the grey abyss through the wide window, breathing in the soft  sleeve of his white cotton night dress. It was originally white but as it wore out, it turned to a light shade of grey -due to the dust- matching the murky sky. Despite this, Kyungsoo loved how it felt against his supple skin, the light breeze wafting through emitted a dusty, old smell; one that reminded him of his personal library- which he loved. Although the dress had been washed as to try to remove the smell, it stayed, and the concoction of lavender soap and dusty smell of books relaxed Kyungsoo greatly. He breathed out in pondering as he stared out the window, until he heard a firm knock on the wooden door as the handle creaked open.  

A different servant that he had never seen before had brought him his meals, didn’t say a word  to him and left without asking if he needed anything. Kyungsoo felt incredibly sad, he wished he had someone to talk to - even Anne would suffice by this point. But the weather gave him a chance to check out some new stories he had been meaning to read, as well as get back into old hobbies such as embroidery and music. 

The boy was quite gifted in playing the piano. When he was younger, he used to play on one that was at the orphanage. It was old and had a few keys missing, but nonetheless Kyungsoo still enjoyed playing over and over again, sometimes playing the same song as to improve his accuracy. It drove the nuns mad. 

He dressed himself into something comfortable and sat by the fire reading. He thought about the high walls covered in ivy and decided that as soon as the rain would pass, he would go back outside to try and find the door. For the past two days, Kyungsoo stayed in his room, the rain inside his head was just as bad as the one outside. He was frustrated and felt completely isolated from the world. He was waiting for Anne to come and scold him for hitting Jina but she never came and the harsh words he was expecting were never said. 

In the evening of the third day, Jina came into Kyungsoo’s room to change his bedding and bring him supper. She had on her usual soft smile and acted as if nothing had happened. She sat with Kyungsoo as he ate and rambled on as usual. Because of the rain, the evening seemed to draw over the house earlier than usual. It made him feel more miserable. All he could do was play chess and sit by the fire and make a puzzle with Jina. By bedtime, Jina asked if she could sit with him and read; and Kyungsoo was very happy to show off his favourite stories to someone.

Kyungsoo had a great interest in stories by Charles Dickens and Jane Austen. He picked out a worn out hardcover he took from the library and sat down on the bed, a bit further away from where Jina sat; by the foot of the bed with her feet tucked under her legs and her white petticoat splayed out on the bed sheets like a fan. He opened the leather hardcover, pads of his fingers on the brown-stained pages, and began reading the first chapter.

“You read so well, Kyungsoo!” Jina admired, she listened to him with great interest. “At such a young age, too! How did you learn to read? Our Jongin cannot read nor write a single word.”

Kyungsoo was rather surprised to hear this. He assumed that most children could read as it wasn’t a very difficult task for him.

“I taught myself,” he stated.

 All of a sudden, he started to feel very sorry for Jongin. He wasn’t sure what more to say, so he decided not to say anything at all. Instead, he continued with the story until his eyes were drooping and the candle wax had all burnt out, which Jina had gently taken from his grip and placed on the bedside table, then tucked him into bed and kissed his forehead and left the chambers.

 

 

 

The following day, when Kyungsoo opened his eyes he sat upright in bed immediately and called for Jina, who appeared by the doorway after a matter of seconds.

“Look at the moor!” his eyes were wide in excitement and he had gotten out of bed to gaze out the window on his tiptoes.

The rainstorm had ended and the grey mist and clouds had been swept away in the night by the wind. The wind itself had ceased and a brilliant, deep blue sky arched high over the moorland. Never ever had Kyungsoo dreamt of a sky so blue. It almost seemed to sparkle like the waters of some lovely, bottomless lake, and here and there, small clouds of soft snow-white fleece floated high in the arched navy abyss. The far-reaching world of the moor itself looked softly blue instead of gloomy purple-black, or awful dreary grey.

“Yes,” said Jina, with a cheerful grin. “The storm’s over for a bit. It does look like this at this time of the year. It goes off in the night like it was pretending it had never been here and never meant to come again. That’s because spring is on its way. It’s still a long way off, but it’s coming.”

“I can’t imagine this place in spring. It seems dead, like there hasn’t been any life for years.” Kyungsoo sighed. He sat at the large window with Jina and gazed outside.

“Just you wait, The moor will be covered in gold-coloured gorse blossoms, heathers flowering, all purple bells and hundreds of butterflies fluttering and bees humming. You’ll want to be up and out at sunrise and live out on it all day, just like Jongin does.” 

Kyungsoo stared at the tiny light in the far distance. Jongin’s mother must have lit the fire as smoke was rising to the sky. From here, the cottage looked so small, almost as small as his fingernail.

“Would I ever be able to go there?” he asked wistfully, looking through his window at the far-off blue. It was so new and big and wonderful and such a heavenly colour. 

“To see Jongin? I don’t know,” answered Jina. “It’s a five mile walk to our cottage and I’m not sure your little legs would be able to handle it.”

“I should like to see it. Could Jongin stay over one night here?”

Jina stared at him a moment curiously before she took up her polishing brush and began to rub Kyungsoo’s boots which had gotten filthy from playing in the fields with Jongin. She thought Kyungsoo was a very odd child, yet she couldn’t help but love him just like an older sister would love her brother. She was very curious about him, and after the incident where Kyungsoo hit her, she forgave him and decided that the child might be troubled in some way and wanted to do all she could to help him.

“You sure are fond of Jongin, ain’t you?”

He nodded enthusiastically. There was no denying that Kyungsoo liked Jongin. He liked him a lot, and he felt comfortable around him and understood by him. Jongin had seen Kyungsoo twist his fingers in his hair, he had seen him upset and still never changed his perspective about him. But Kyungsoo was a little blind and wasn’t sure what Jongin thought of him, as he had always struggled with understanding others emotions.

“Nobody has ever been fond of me,” Kyungsoo said pitifully and coldly.

Jina felt a pang in a her chest and an immense wave of emotions as she brought Kyungsoo’s face in her hands, her fingers brushing his cheeks. “That’s not true, I’m fond of you. You are likeable, Kyungsoo,” she whispered in his ears as she stroked his raven hair, brushing his fringe up to place a kiss on his forehead. 

 

 

 

Jina went away, humming joyfully, as soon as she had given Kyungsoo his breakfast. She was going to walk the five miles across the moor to the cottage, and she was going to help her mother with the washing and do the week’s baking.

Kyungsoo felt lonelier than ever when he knew Jina was no longer in the house. He went out into the garden as quickly as possible, and the first thing he did was run round and round the fountain flower garden in circles ten times, arms up like a plane. He counted the times carefully and when he had finished he fell to the ground and lay on the luscious grass in better spirits. When he sat up again, he glanced up at the horizon. The sunshine made the whole place look different. The high, deep, blue sky arched over Misselthwaite, as well as over the moor and he kept lifting his face and looking up into it, trying to imagine what it would be like to lie down on one of the little snow-white clouds and float about. 

He went into the first garden and found one of the gardeners working there, the change in the weather seemed to have him in a good mood. Kyungsoo had seen this gardener often, but he never said a word as the old man usually gave him an odd look and would turn his back to him and walk away. 

He was rather surprised when the gardener spoke to him of his own accord.

“Springtime’s coming,” he said. “Can’t you smell it?”

Kyungsoo sniffed the air and noticed it did indeed smell different. “I smell something fresh and damp.”

He then heard the soft rustling flight of wings, and he knew at once that it was the robin. He was very pert and lively, and hopped about so close to his feet, and put his head on one side and looked at him curiously.

“Do you think he remembers me?” he asked the gardener. 

“Remembers you?” the old man said indignantly. “He knows every cabbage stump in the gardens, let alone the people. He’s never seen such an odd looking boy before, and he’s spent on finding out all about you.”

“I wonder where he lives,” Kyungsoo inquired. “Perhaps beyond the high wall.”

“What high wall?” the old man grunted, becoming surly again.

“In the gardens, there is a high wall that is covered in ivy and it goes around for a long time. It seems that everything around it is dead.”

The gardener hunched his shoulders towards the robin. “Ask him. He’s the only one that knows.”

Kyungsoo began to walk away, slowly thinking. He had begun to like the mystery beyond the ivy wall just like he had begun to like the robin and Jongin. He was beginning to like Jina too. That seemed a good amount of people to like - when you were not used to liking.

He went to walk outside the long, ivy-covered wall which he could see the tree-tops. He heard a chip and a twitter, and when he looked at the bare flower-bed at his left side there he was hopping about and pretending to peck things out of the earth to persuade him that the robin had not followed him. But Kyungsoo knew that the bird had followed him, and the surprise filled him with delight that he smiled and almost trembled.

“You do remember me!” He cried. 

The robin hopped and flitted his tail and twittered. It really did seem as if he were talking. His red waistcoat was silk like satin, he puffed his tiny breast out and was so grand, and so pretty that it seemed as if he were showing him how important and anthropomorphic a robin could be. Kyungsoo forgot that he had ever feared animals when the robin allowed him to draw closer and closer, and bend down and talk, and try to sing like a robin. 

The flowerbed was not quite bare. It was bare of flowers because the perennial plants had been cut down for their winter rest, but there were tall shrubs and low ones that grew together at the back of the bed. As the robin hopped about under them, Kyungsoo saw him hop over a small pile of freshly dug up earth. The earth had been dug up because a dog had been trying to look for a mole, and he scratched quite a deep hole. The robin stopped by it to look for a worm. 

Kyungsoo kneeled down and watched the robin for a while, he found a small pink worm and pulled it out the earth. It wriggled around and the bird was quick to eat it. Afterwards, the robin hopped along the earth and kept turning his head back to see if the boy was still there.

Kyungsoo thought that maybe the robin wanted him to follow him, so he stood up and was led to familiar ivy. Carefully he looked, he could see nothing but thickly growing, glossy, dark green leaves. The robin flew from his swinging spray of ivy onto the top of the wall, and he opened his beak and sang a loud, lovely trill, merely to show off. Nothing in the world is quite as endearing and lovely as a robin when it shows off - and it happens quite a lot. It seemed magical and fantastical to him that animals could have such quirky, human-like qualities. 

Doh Kyungsoo had read a great deal about magic in his storybooks, that he often wondered what magic really is.

One of the gusts of wind rushed down the walk, and it was a stronger one than the rest. It was strong enough to wave the branches of the trees, and it was more than strong enough to sway the trailing sprays of untrimmed ivy hanging from the wall. Kyungsoo had stepped close to the robin, and suddenly the gust of wind swung aside some loose ivy trails, and more suddenly still he jumped towards it and caught it in his hand. This he did because he had seen something under it - a round knob which had been covered by the leaves hanging over it. It was the knob of a door.

He put his hands under the leaves and began to pull and push them aside. Thick as the ivy hung, nearly all of it was loose and swinging like a curtain, though some had crept over the wood and iron. Kyungsoo’s heart began to thump and his hands to shake a little in his delight and excitement. The robin kept singing and twittering away and tilting his head on one side, as if he were as excited as he was. What was this under his hands which was a square and made of iron and which his fingers found a hole in?

It was the lock of the door. He tried twisting the knob and pushing the door, but it seemed that it was locked. His uncle really did throw away the key. Where could it possibly be? Kyungsoo huffed and gave up on fighting with the door, kicking it out of anger once more before leaving it and walking back to the manor for his dinner.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Anne had allowed Jina to sleep all night at the cottage across the moors, but she was back at her work in the morning with cheeks redder than ever and in the best of spirits.

“I got up at four o’clock,” she said. 

They were sitting by the fire in Kyungsoo’s room, as the boy sat quietly and continued his embroidery. 

“It was pretty on the moor with the birds getting up and the rabbits scampering about with the sun rising. I didn’t walk all the way though, a man gave me a ride in his cart.”

She was full of stories of the delights of her day out. Her mother had been glad to see her, and they had got the baking and washing all out of the way. She had even made Kyungsoo a dough-cake with a bit of brown sugar in it. 

Jina went out of he room and came back with something held in her hands under her apron. “I’ve bought you a present” she said, with a cheerful grin. “What do you you think?”

“A present!” exclaimed master Kyungsoo. He had never received a present in his life .

“A man was driving across the moor, peddling,” Jina explained. “And he stopped his cart at our door. He had pots and pans and odds and ends, but Mother had no money to buy anything. Just as he was going out, Jongin spotted skipping ropes with red and blue handles. They were a tuppence each, so Mother bought one for you, and here it is.”

She brought it out from under her apron and exhibited it quiet proudly. It was a strong, slender rope with striped red and blue handles at each end, but Kyungsoo had never seen a skipping-rope before. He gazed at it with a mystified expression.

“What is it for?” he asked curiously.

“You don’t know? Just watch me,” she gestured to herself and gently took the skipping rope from Kyungsoo’s grip.

She ran into the middle of the room and, taking a handle in each hand, began to skip, and skip, and skip, while Kyungsoo turned in his chair to stare at her, and the strange faces in the old portraits seemed to stare at her too, and wonder what on earth this common little cottager had the impudence to be doing under their very noses. But Jina did not even see them. The interest and curiosity in Kyungsoo’s face delighted her, and she went on skipping and counted as she skipped until she had reached a hundred.

“I could skip longer than that,” she said when she stopped. “I’ve skipped as much as five hundred when I was twelve.”

Kyungsoo got up from his chair beginning to feel excited himself.

“It looks fun,” he said. “Do you think I could ever skip like that?”

“Why don’t you just try it,” urged Jina, handing him the skipping-rope. “You can’t skip a hundred at first, but if you practice you’ll mount up.”

It was plain that there was not a great deal of strength in Kyungsoo’s arms and legs when he first began to skip. He was not very clever at it, but he liked it so much that he did not want to stop. He put on his coat and hat and took his skipping-rope over his arm. 

The skipping-rope was a wonderful thing. He counted and skipped, and skipped and counted, until his cheeks turned a light red from the exercise, and then he was more interested and enthusiastic than he had ever been since he was born. The sun was shining and a little wind was blowing — not a rough wind, but one which came in delightful little gusts and brought a fresh scent of newly turned earth with it. He skipped round the fountain garden, and up one walk and down another. He skipped at last into the kitchen-garden and saw the same gardener from  before, digging and talking to the robin, which was hopping about. 

Kyungsoo skipped round all the gardens and round the orchard, resting every few minutes. At length, he went to his own special path and made up his mind to try if he could skip the whole length of it. It was a good long skip, and he began slowly, but before he had gone half-way down the path he was so hot and breathless that he was obliged to stop. He did not mind much, because he had already counted up to thirty. He stopped with a little smile of pleasure and continued until he reached an area of gravel. He was so caught up in the moment, watching his hands swing round in big circles each time the rope was swung downwards, that he did not realise the rope had got caught between one of his legs and he tripped harshly — landing hands first in the gravel with his knees and chin following after.

A stinging burn was felt instantly, tears began to prick at his eyes when he realised that he was hurt. He looked down at his hands to see them grazed and very dirty, and panic rose in his chest.

He did not like the dirt on his skin, under his nails or even the texture of it. He could feel each individual grain of earth between fingertips. Thick crocodile tears ran down chubby red cheeks, a wave of nausea passed through as he swallowed the lump in his throat. He breathed heavily and started to sob, partly from the stinging gashes on his palms and knees, but mostly from the great discomfort of the gravel and sweat mixed into his skin and that had dirtied his clothes. 

Still sobbing and wiping the snot from his nose with his already dirty sleeve, he threw the skipping-rope in frustration at a bush beside the path, causing the branches and leaves to rustle and shake. The robin, previously perched on one of the branches, had also been startled after silently following Kyungsoo, and feverishly twittered as it flew away from the bush, flying closer to the fallen, crying boy in attempt to comfort him.

“Leave me alone,” sniffled Kyungsoo, covering his face in shame. “You’re just a stupid bird  anyway.”

“Don’t talk to him like that!” exclaimed a voice that Kyungsoo recognised. “You didn’t have to throw that at him or the bush,” the voice stopped when they heard Kyungsoo sobbing. “What’s the matter?” 

A hand reached out to grab Kyungsoo’s but surprisingly, Kyungsoo didn’t want to snatch it away like he normally would with people. He glanced up, tears wetting his face and eyes glassy and bloodshot from crying, and gasped when he saw Jongin’s worried face in front of his own. He burst into a new sob that had Jongin immediately put his arms around the other in attempt to comfort him. 

He had never seen Kyungsoo cry, or show any other emotion besides focus and ponder when looking at Jongin care to animals or sharing facts about said animals. Other than the time he smiled, which Jongin will keep in his memory for eternity, the boy was very composed and conservative, so seeing him be overwhelmed by emotions made Jongin all the more curious and worried. 

“It’s alright, I’m here,” soothed Jongin. “What happened?” he asked softly.

“I- I c-can’t...do it” wavered Kyungsoo. “I can’t do it” he shook his head feverishly.

“What can’t you do?” frowned Jongin.

“I-I d-didn’t m-mean to hurt the r-robin,” he sniffled. “I d-didn’t mean to h-hit the bush.”

“No! I know you didn’t, you wouldn’t,” Jongin brought his hands to cover Kyungsoo’s in comfort just like he had the first time they met and stroked the pony.

He felt dirt on his skin and heard Kyungsoo seep in pain and pulled his hands away to see Kyungsoo’s injured ones. He gasped and brought them closer to see better. As he brushed away the gravel from the other’s palms of his hands, he noticed some scraped skin and some blood on the fresh gash. Jongin had seen many injuries after tending to most of the animals in the moor, and the one Kyungsoo had on his hands and knees were far from extreme, but the dramatic whimpering coming from Kyungsoo made it seem as if he were shot. He refrained from laughing whilst trying to calm the other down.

“You don’t really play outside much, do you?”

Kyungsoo shook his head in response, tears no longer streaming down his face, but still shaken from the impact. This time Jongin laughed and helped a moody Kyungsoo stand up.

The other straightened his legs gingerly and winced at the stinging, Jongin tried to take him by the hand but Kyungsoo pulled away hissing at the pain. He didn’t like the feeling, so waited for Jongin to lead the way and followed with a scowl on his face. They walked through the kitchen gardens, past the gardener who had a similar scowl on his own face.The two walked in silence until they reached the manor and Kyungsoo had to open the door to welcome his guest. The boy, however, looked down at his feet timidly, scratching the remaining dirt on his hands. 

Jongin glanced at Kyungsoo, guessing that the welcome wouldn’t come, then directed his attention towards the grand, towering manor. The huge entrance door made Jongin feel small, as well as the hundreds of windows around the building. He walked towards the huge doors and held the cool, black metal door handle in his hands, about to pull it to knock. However, they didn’t need to knock, as the oak door opened slowly with a squeak. The doorman welcomed the two boys in, the warmth hit their cheeks as soon as they took the first step into the building. He had never seen an entrance hall so grand, or a staircase so wide. The walls were three stories high, covered with paintings all the way up to the ceiling. Kyungsoo began to take his shoes off, and Jongin noticed this and did the same. He felt shy noticing that he had a hole in his tattered socks, but Kyungsoo didn’t seem to mind and guided him upstairs to his bedroom. Along the way, Jongin was mesmerised by how many doors they passed, and how the portraits stared back at him disapprovingly. As they walked up the stairs, Kyungsoo led the way this time, ignoring Jongin’s constant commenting and gasping at the intricate confinements of the manor. He would’ve stopped with him to admire and add his own comments, but he was hardly in the mood- he needed to get this disgusting dirt and gravel off of himself, and Jongin was not helping. 

After what seemed like hours of meandering through the corridors, Kyungsoo practically cried in relief as they reached his bedroom. He sat down on a stool beside the table and waited for Jongin to tend to him. The other, however, gaped at him, standing awkwardly still, he felt that he did not belong here. The murals on the walls had such royal colours, the oak king-size bed beside the window was of such luxury that Jongin had never seen before. The drapery was made of fine, rich tapestry that Jongin felt ashamed standing there in his hand-me-downs.  

He suddenly snapped out of his thoughts, and went into the bathroom to take a small washbowl, filling it with warm water from the sink and taking a washcloth. He placed the bowl on the table and dampened the cloth, carefully, Jongin wiped away the dirt from Kyungsoo’s hands. The younger winced a few times, but Jongin’s warm hands soothed him into a comfortable silence. The crackling from the firewood was the only thing that could be heard and Kyungsoo’s soft sniffles. 

When Jongin was done, he rinsed the washcloth off in the bathroom and dabbed Kyungsoo’s wounds with some ointment he found in the bathroom cabinet. After calmly denying the other’s constant, anxious insisting that he needed a bandage for the small scab, trying once again not to laugh at Kyungsoo’s cute antics -and failing- Jongin returned the ointment back to the bathroom cabinet. Kyungsoo quickly replaced the angry pout from his face with a relieved, delighted smile. He was in a better mood from registering that Jongin was now in the house and that he wasn’t alone, his smile and voice giving warmth and light to his usually isolated room that the glowing ruby embers from the fireplace couldn’t provide. He gazed at his tended hands with growing interest as Jongin returned to the bedroom, and the elder noticed a pile of books by the bedside table. 

“My sister said you are very good at reading,” he began, Kyungsoo’s eyebrows furrowed in discomfort. “What are you currently reading?” 

“Moby Dick. It’s about a whale,” Kyungsoo replies hesitantly, as Jongin picks up the book and examines the cover. The pages are worn and the spine has a tear. He sits on the bed, crosses his legs and looks up at Kyungsoo who is still standing by the table. 

“Can you read to me?” he asks excitedly, albeit politely as not to scare Kyungsoo away. 

Kyungsoo looked down at his feet and fiddled with his scab, eyes awkwardly diverting, but started to timidly nod. He raised his head slightly so that he could walk towards the bed, and sat down at the foot of the bed, taking the book that Jongin had placed beside him on the bedcover. Jongin gives himself some distance from the younger and makes himself comfortable on the huge bed, and Kyungsoo takes out the bookmark and continues from where he left off. 

His diction and enunciation of words deeply mesmerised Jongin, the way he expressed his voice made the other greatly invested in the story, and Jongin became envious of Kyungsoo’s brightness. He closed his eyes and imagined himself in the story, floating on the ocean in a wooden boat, wind breezing in his face. He could even smell the wine-dark sea and hear the whooshing of the waves. If the rain in England ceased to stop, continued to constantly bombard the landscape with no remorse, the moors would look like an endless, purple sea. 

Kyungsoo’s soft voice made Jongin feel sleepy, leaning on his hands face forward and legs crossed at the back, no longer kicking as he pondered the story and -more importantly- the way Kyungsoo’s big eyes focused on the pages below him, glassed with interest and passion. Jongin could tell that this was one of Kyungsoo’s favourite stories; a light curve of a smile appeared as he started to read his favourite part of the chapter. Seeing Kyungsoo smile was such a rarity that Jongin made the most of it and watched him read, no longer registering the words into his brain. He felt so relaxed from the sound of Kyungsoo’s voice, and from the soft material of the bed sheets, that Jongin was being lulled to sleep. He wanted to lie down on the cotton sheets and bury his face into the clouds that smelled faintly of lavender. 

However, Kyungsoo’s voice started to drift off, and Jongin thought the younger had fallen asleep. He opened his eyes to see the boy staring at the ceiling with wide eyes and a look of horror on his face. His own eyes diverted into the direction to be met with nothing but white, bland paint. 

“Wha-” Kyungsoo cut him off with a sharp hush. Jongin didn’t dare make a move, and out of nowhere, he could hear a murmur. 

“Do you hear that?” The younger whispered, and very silently, the murmurs had turned into soft cries. In the span of thirty seconds, the crying got louder and roared through the house like a storm. The corridors echoed and shook, Jongin had never heard such a noise. Not even the high winds on the moors were as scary as the blood-curdling crying in this house. Jongin nodded warily, the two boys looked at each other, fear consuming their widening eyes. 

“Since the first night I have heard that, crying, whining. It scares me.” he confessed. “Jina said she couldn’t hear it, and I thought I was going mad.”

“You’re not going mad, I can hear it too.” Jongin replied, the sound rumbled through the bedroom and walked through the walls like a ghost. 

A chill went down Jongin’s spine and his insides started to churn, he felt a great discomfort- but it didn’t compare to how Kyungsoo looked.

“Kyungsoo-yah…” his shoulders slumped as he looked at the other.

His face had turned paper-white, mouth open and drying, hands gripping the bed sheets tightly as he unawarely started to shake. Kyungsoo felt numb and suffocated at the same time. Everything around him was a blur, the sound, his vision, he was somewhere else. He hadn’t realised that he wasn’t breathing until he started hyperventilating and Jongin brought his arms around him so that he wouldn’t fall over. He also hadn’t realised the small tufts of hair in his grip and that his head was aching. Breathing heavily through his nose out of fear, he started to scream. 

“Sshhh, it’s okay, I’m here, everything’s alright,” Kyungsoo felt the silky raven hair on his neck, the crown of the head that it rested on smelt of feathers and a smidge of lavender from the bed. 

Kyungsoo grips Jongin back into a hug and sobs quietly into his chest. The ten year-old felt overwhelmed, but he wasn’t shocked or put off by Kyungsoo’s behaviour, he himself would have screamed until his lungs hurt if he had to hear that cry every day. He unconsciously held Kyungsoo tighter and nuzzled his nose into the top of his hair. This helped Kyungsoo regain himself quicker, as the boy preferred to be held tight as opposed to gently touched. Usually he would slap someone’s hand away if they placed it delicately onto him, he hated the feeling, but -as with most things- Jongin was the exception. Maybe it was because of how he saw Jongin tend to the animals he had been introduced to, he quickly learned to trust the elder. Whatever it was, it soothed Kyungsoo well and he stopped crying almost as soon as he started. 

He rose his head to look at Jongin, wiping the unshed tears from his eyes. 

“Can you sleep over tonight?” he meekly asked, his round glassy eyes hard to look away from once they had caught your attention. “I can ask Jina, I’m sure she’ll say yes.”

Jongin dumbly nodded, deeply hypnotised by Kyungsoo’s facial expression; a mixture of wariness but genuine need for validation- and most importantly- a friend. Spending a couple of months alone in a huge mansion with only Jina for company and miscellaneous noises eventually drove Kyungsoo insane. Jongin understood why the boy was willing to stay outside in the minus ten degree weather to meet him in the gardens for so long now.

“I would love to have a sleepover with you, Kyungsoo,” he smiled. 

Kyungsoo's face was free from any anxiety as he looked up at Jongin with the brightest smile on his face and brought him into a hug. Jongin, startled, hugged back and tried to ignore the warmth in his chest and butterflies in his stomach from being blinded by the sunlight emitted from what Jongin thought was the most beautiful smile he had ever seen. 


	5. The Princes and the Pea.

Jina had sent a merchant and horse to the cottage to deliver the message of Jongin staying at Mistlethwaite. The two boys were excited about their sleepover, especially Kyungsoo- as it was his first ever sleepover with a friend. He wasn’t sure what one was supposed to do at sleepovers, but he hoped Jongin would chase away the monster in the house that cries out for him every night. Jongin’s mother was glad that the boy had a human friend to share stories and play with, which was a change from him bringing home fox cubs and rabbits every now and then.

 

When they heard that the message had been accepted by Jongin’s mother back in the cottages, the two boys looked at each other and giggled with the brightest smiles on their faces. Kyungsoo grabbed Jongin’s hand and dragged him across the looming corridors running, and the action caused Jongin to scream in shock before bursting into giggles again, surprised at the usually timid boy’s sudden change of character.

 

Meanwhile, Kyungsoo felt a surge of relief and extreme happiness that he was no longer alone in the seemingly haunted, isolated mansion. He wanted to run around the whole vast space and fill the corridors with the sound of laughter and Jongin’s voice. He loved Jongin’s voice, especially his laugh, and wanted to hear it for as long as he could while Jongin stayed here to destroy the usual haunting silence, so he made conversation.

 

“I would like to show you to my favourite room,” he looked at Jongin with excitement in his eyes and a knowing smile.  “I have counted each door and there are around eighty I think, but there could be more. I haven’t explored most of the house as I’m not allowed to- but I imagine it’s filled with doors waiting to be explored- just like the gardens in the moors! ” he rambled on giddily.

 

“I should like to see it,” Jongin smiled at his friend with his eyebrows raised. Light astonishment showing on his face from how talkative the other has suddenly become.

 

 

Kyungsoo took Jongin by his hand and dragged him up the long staircases, through the narrow corridors until they reached Kyungsoo’s pride and joy. The library. Jongin stared in awe at the mountains of books, he let his fingers dance along the spines of the old covers as he walked around the room. He had never seen so many in his life, and he wondered what stories they told. Kyungsoo ran towards the window and opened the curtains, letting sunlight beam into the large room. Dust particles swam in the air, dancing and twirling in the light. The warm glow shone in Kyungsoo’s eyes and Jongin couldn’t help but stare at his golden brown orbs.

 

“How many have you read?” He asked curiously.

 

“Almost fifteen since I have been here, but I read all of the books in the library back at the orphanage,” Kyungsoo smiled, feeling rather pleased with himself.

 

He walked towards the fireplace where a book was resting by the armchair. “I’m currently reading this one.”

 

The book’s spine was missing and the edges were worn down. Kyungsoo opened to his last page and showed Jongin the picture, the illustration of the toad made Jongin smile.

 

“What’s it about?” his eyes fixated on the letters and yellowed, dusty pages.

 

Kyungsoo pointed at the animals in the picture. “The Toad has three friends; a mole, a badger and a rat. They go on many adventures together, it’s such a funny story!” his expression was so lit up in excitement and voice had such an animated tone as opposed to the timid, monotonous demeanour he usually had.

 

Jongin almost felt shy, and a little intimidated. Seeing Kyungsoo be so confident and passionate about reading made him feel small and uneducated. He wished he could’ve read a whole library, but he can’t even read a single word. A lost look and a frowning pout showed on his face, he felt ashamed.

 

Several minutes of only Kyungsoo talking and reminiscing about the collection of stories that he had read eventually came to a stop as the boy noticed the silence from Jongin.

 

“Is something the matter?” he mirrored Jongin’s frown.

 

“No, sorry. It’s nothing,” Jongin looked down at his hands and fiddled them awkwardly.

 

“I may not understand when people feel distressed, but I know you’re lying, Jongin. You’ve gone unusually quiet and you keep fiddling with your hands whenever I read,” he noticed.

 

“I just feel so...dumb around you,” Jongin squeaked. “You’ve read entire libraries and your vocabulary and diction is so developed, when I can’t even read,” he smiled sadly.  

 

Kyungsoo put the book down onto the wooden desk with a thoughtful look. He remembered Jina telling him about Jongin not being able to read, and the sadness he felt when she first told him. He can’t imagine what that must feel like, but he does know what it feels like being in an unfamiliar environment.

 

“Remember when you first showed me how to stroke Whiskey?” he met Jongin’s discouraged eyes. The elder nodded, biting his bottom lip.

 

“I was so scared of him, and seeing you talk to him and care to him made me feel so small. You made it look so easy, I was jealous of how good you are with animals,” he smiled as he thought of the first time he heard Jongin talk to the horses and the other field animals as if they were human, about what he did that day and even asking them questions.

 

He remembered how Jongin sounded when he laughed after one of the birds twittered something to him in response, it reminded Kyungsoo of wind chimes that twinkle through breezes, hiding in the depths of forests, but nevertheless, enchanting onlookers. He had never heard such a warm, magical laugh.

 

In a forest so empty, Kyungsoo felt less alone with the discovering of that sound and the person behind it, seeing Jongin look at the animals with those warm honey-brown eyes made Kyungsoo feel giddy, he reminded Kyungsoo of the princesses that he had read about in Brother Grimms’ stories, the ones that sing with animals and laugh with a warmth that makes the sun’s rays jealous. His pretty smile and pretty eyes could blind someone.

 

“...Kyungsoo..?”

 

Kyungsoo hadn’t realised he was still smiling to himself and staring thoughtfully at Jongin until the other had an amused look on his face with some confusion buried in the furrow of his eyebrows. He looked like he was waiting for an answer and Kyungsoo suddenly turned red from embarrassment of getting caught staring at and daydreaming about the other.

 

“Hhm? What?” his doe eyes grew bigger in panic.

 

The laugh was back, a mix between a giggle and exasperation. Jongin loved Kyungsoo’s surprised face, the animated eyes as big as an owl’s.

 

“I said that Whiskey and the robin love you, and that you’re good with animals. All it took was some getting used to,” he had a comforting tone in his voice.

 

“But I scared them off at first... and I’m not as charming as you,” Kyungsoo says the second part quietly, unaware that he had said that out loud. He gasped to himself, worried that Jongin had heard, but calmed down when the other showed no surprised reaction.

 

“Maybe at first, but you learnt really quickly and soon became comfortable with and liked them.”

 

“That’s because I liked you straight away,” Kyungsoo replied thoughtlessly. Realising what he had said, he covered his mouth bashfully, head turning towards the ground in order to avoid eye contact.

 

“I liked you straight away, too,” Jongin smiled.

 

Kyungsoo’s cheeks matched his hat, growing hotter and redder by the minute. He squealed quietly before diverting his attention to his book, outlining the golden carvings of the hardback front cover with his finger, an involuntary giggle escaped his heart-shaped lips. He could not look at Jongin, try as he might, but the big stupid smile on his face would not go unnoticed.

 

Jongin lit up and laughed more sincerely, a pink shade matching his naturally pouty lips appeared on the curves of his cheeks. Kyungsoo’s blushy face and reaction was so cute that Jongin couldn’t help but laugh and match the blush, butterflies tickling the insides of his stomach and chest in giddiness. The chuckle twinkled in Kyungsoo’s ears, it drew him so effortlessly that his eyes automatically looked up at Jongin’s.

 

The two boys shared an embarrassed smile, and minutes passed before Kyungsoo came to his senses, there was a point to this conversation and he needed to turn the attention back onto it. He gulped before replying.

 

“So... what I mean is that it took practise for me- so it will take practise for you!”

 

Jongin, on the other hand, had forgotten the topic of the conversation. It was his turn to look lost, “wh- what?”

 

“Reading,” Kyungsoo made an effort to quickly change the subject and be rid of the embarrassment. “You said you can’t read or write a single word, so I’ll teach you!” crescents formed in his eyes as he smiled enthusiastically, a pink shade still covering his ears and neck but dissipating from his cheeks.

 

Jongin was brought back to his senses as he gasped in excitement. “Really?!” This quickly passed as he thought, “but what if I c-” he paused and sighed, he doesn’t want to embarrass himself in front of Kyungsoo. “… no, it won’t work, you’ll grow tired of me,” the frown and pout returned to his face.

 

“I would never! Anyone can read or write if they’re taught! You won’t learn in a day, but we have all day and night so it’s a start, and we can make a game out of it!” Kyungsoo was aware of how loudly and enthusiastically he was talking, he was probably scaring Jongin immensely.

 

He cleared his throat before linking his hand with Jongin’s, fingers crossing over, he smiled encouragingly. The other was shocked by the sudden contact, but immediately relaxed when he felt the softness of Kyungsoo’s nimble fingers soothe over his knuckles.

 

“Come on, it’ll be fun,” his voice was practically a whisper, paranoid after having shouted in excitement before.

 

The butterflies in Jongin’s stomach had not fully dissipated prior to Kyungsoo’s skinship so, needless to say, he still felt giddy and felt his heartbeat ring in his ears. But he could see how happy Kyungsoo looked and how much he wanted to help him, for the life of him, Jongin could not turn him down.

 

“Okay,” his eyes had a hint of wariness in them, but his timid smile grew bigger when Kyungsoo laughed in relief and excitement.

 

The two sat by the fire, as the sun was setting across the moors. Kyungsoo picked up a notebook from the bookcase, a calligraphy pen hooked through the loop at the side of it, before sitting down beside his student. Jongin tried to ignore the giddiness mixed with fear when he saw how professional that pen and how elegant the pages of the notebook looked, aware that he will ruin those pages soon with his lack of practise. It was a beautiful book, emerald green cotton covered the hardcover with a picture of a poppy painted in the bottom hand corner. The spine had a very detailed pattern in gold and Jongin couldn’t help but run his fingers over it.

 

“Do you… not have a different notebook or pen?” Jongin scratched the back of his neck. Kyungsoo frowned at the question. “I don’t want to ruin something so expensive and beautiful,” the shy tone reappeared in his voice.

 

Kyungsoo merely smiled at that. “I have plenty more, don’t worry. You won’t ruin anything, it’s part of the learning process,” and it will be cute having your first record of writing in my personal notebook Kyungsoo thinks to himself but this time succeeds in not saying out loud.

 

“Alright, let’s start,” Kyungsoo monotonously states, like a professor about to start a lecture. Seeing Jongin get worried about this, however, made him break the facade and he looked towards him before smiling and wiggling his eyebrows.

 

Jongin returned the smile and laughed. He soon stopped to think about Kyungsoo’s comment from before, wanting to know what he meant by that. “So how is this supposed to be a game?”

 

“Simple,” Kyungsoo smiled. “For each letter of the alphabet, think of a word in this room that you see.”

 

“And what if I can’t think of one?”

 

Something in Kyungsoo’s eyes showed a playful glint that Jongin had never seen before from him, the boy really was good at hiding parts of himself.

 

“You get punished,” Kyungsoo ominously stated, a smirk blossoming on his rosy face, eyebrows raised in mock fear.

 

Jongin could only blink at that, he really had stumped the boy this time. He thought over it very clearly before relaxing his face, a teasing smile appearing on his face, and replied, “Oh yeah? And what can YOU do to hurt me, I’m practically twice your size!”

 

“No you’re not!” Kyungsoo scowled.

 

“Am too,” it was Jongin’s turn to smirk.

 

“Are not,”

 

“Am too,”

 

Kyungsoo started to giggle, knowing that Jongin would join in and be distracted, “are NOT!” he kicked Jongin in the shin as he replied, causing the other to fall mid-laugh and guffaw.

 

“OWW!” he whined, his usual pout becoming parodically over-exaggerated, amusing Kyungsoo even more than he had anticipated.

 

However he was not done in abusing the other and pulled his middle finger back in front of Jongin’s forehead. Jongin had noticed this and gasped, clasping his hands together. “No! Please, mercy, mercy! I’m sorry! You are the tallest and grandest in all the land-”

 

Kyungsoo showed no remorse and flicked Jongin’s forehead with his small, nimble finger, a snap sound could be heard from metres away.

 

Much to Kyungsoo’s dismay, Jongin didn’t scream or recoil straight away in fear like he had anticipated. Instead the elder somewhat slumped forwards, still kneeling down, and brought them forward so that he could sit on his bottom, hugging his knees. He had a sad look on his face, a seemingly real pout, and...tears in his eyes?

 

Something churned in Kyungsoo’s stomach, causing him to feel sick, he stopped the act and knelt down to Jongin’s level. “Oh, no… does it hurt that bad?” Worry consuming his face, he placed his hand over Jongin’s red forehead, fingertips grazing over the dent from the impact.

 

Jongin moved his head down, placing his forehead on his- still raised -knees, sniffling.

 

Kyungsoo’s confusion increased,”...Jongin… are you alright?” eyebrows burrowing together in a frown.

 

Suddenly, a muffled giggle could be heard from underneath Jongin’s lowered head and he rapidly started to tickle Kyungsoo’s sides, the volume and intensity of the giggle increasing.

 

Kyungsoo, however, was having none of it. He squirmed and wriggled away from Jongin’s touch. “Get off me,” he automatically slapped his hands away.

 

Jongin recoiled, startled but still laughing, until he noticed the uncomfortable look on Kyungsoo’s face and proceeded to look at the other questionably.

 

“Are you alright?” it was his turn to ask.

 

“Don’t do that, I don’t like it,” Kyungsoo dead-panned, a scowl forming on his mouth.

 

“You’re not meant to enjoy a tickle fight. The tickle monster disposes of the weakest!” Jongin teased, but quickly changed to serious when he sought no response from the other. “Do you really hate it that much?”

 

“I thought you were hurt. I’m just confused, and it takes longer for me to understand jokes like that,” he explained. “I don’t like delicate touches, my sides are really sensitive and I feel very uncomfortable when someone touches me like that,” he made eye contact with Jongin, as the other looked back thoughtfully.

 

“But I’ve touched you before, and I hug you a lot, do you feel uncomfortable then?”

 

A rosy blush appeared on Kyungsoo’s ears as he recalled the countless times Jongin puts his head on his shoulders when they hug and his warmth relaxes Kyungsoo’s shoulders.

 

“No, I don’t,” he looks away from Jongin, fiddling with his fingers.

 

Jongin notices the behaviour and fully takes advantage of the situation, broad smile making his eyes form crescents. “Oh, is that so?”

 

Kyungsoo nods abruptly, looking at the ground, neck proceeding to match the colour of his ears. “I prefer firmer touches so that the sensitivity of my skin subsides,” as he blabbered away, he realised he was digging his own grave when he looked up at Jongin’s mischievous smile.

 

“Do you like it when I….. do THIS,” Jongin asks rhetorically before moving behind the other placing his chin on the top of Kyungsoo’s shoulder, right next to the spot on his neck where he usually places his head when they hug- Kyungsoo’s favourite place.

 

Kyungsoo tries not to squirm, a bigger -but still shy- smile forming on his face as he nods.

 

“How about… THIS,” Jongin folds his arms around Kyungsoo’s stomach from behind, and buries his face into the crook of his neck. Hearing the other squeak only encouraged him to continue making him flustered and he nuzzled into Kyungsoo’s neck.

 

“Jongiiiinnnn stooooop,” Kyungsoo whined. This time, however, there was no discomfort in his voice, only a flustered tone followed by a series of giggles.

 

Jongin would not stop, he held the younger in a tight, but warm, embrace. The two figures relaxed and Kyungsoo leaned his back into Jongin’s chest, spooning vertically. Kyungsoo inhaled Jongin’s familiar honeysuckle scent and sighed further into his chest.

 

They sat there for a minute, the redness on the smaller spoon’s neck and ears gradually dissipating before Jongin went for one final attack. He pressed his lips into Kyungsoo’s neck in a small peck.

 

Kyungsoo gasped and started to squeal, releasing himself from Jongin’s touch, and brought his knees up, face burrowing into his kneecaps. Jongin was in fits of giggles, no shame in his face whatsoever from the -totally uncalled for- action.

 

Feeling proud of himself for managing to make the other this flustered, he started to celebrate. He taunted Kyungsoo, not realising that the younger had recovered, before Kyungsoo grabbed Jongin’s cheeks and squished them, bringing his lips into a pout. He puckered them and gently placed a soft kiss on the elder’s own. As soon as they parted, shock prominent on Jongin’s face, Kyungsoo giggled and ran out of the library.

 

Jongin was left stunned, eyes wide, sat down on the rug, faintly touching his lips, the fire flickering from the log-burner emitting more heat into the room. Not that he needed to be heated up, it was his turn to be left completely astounded, and he hadn’t expected Kyungsoo to retaliate. As it turns out the boy was more of a threat than he had thought. He had to get his revenge.

 

Jongin stood up and made his way out of the library, and ran down the corridors. He could smell dinner being prepared, his instincts waking up and rumbling his stomach. Naturally, he moved towards the smell as messing around with Kyungsoo drained a lot of his energy.

 

It seems as though the two boys were on the same wavelength, for Jongin emerged into the dining room, only to see a raven round ball from behind one of the chairs. He stopped, smirked and squatted down before taking a stomp forward, “I’ve got you nooow!” he singsongs, before laughing mischievously “mwaaHAHAHA!!”

 

Kyungsoo met Jongin’s level of hyperactiveness and started to jump from chair to chair, standing up on each one to swivel his hips and dance arms raised in the air and hands proceeding to do move forwards as he raised his knees, a dance that Jongin hadn’t seen before, all whilst maintaining the most serious expression that he could muster on his face. Jongin, however, could not contain himself, and burst out into the loudest, most obnoxious girly laughter after seeing his friend’s astounding performance on the dining room chairs.

 

Albeit, he was not distracted from his mission. He focused on the target, eyes squinting and stance prepared to attack, waiting for them to be distracted. Jongin smirks to himself after confirming that the target seems to be invested in his performance and, remembering what he had said about wanting more firmer touches, grabs hold of his torso, aiming to pick the other up.

 

Although Jongin was taller than the other, he had greatly overestimated his ten-year-old self’s strength, as when he lifts Kyungsoo up from the wooden dining chair, he fails in lifting him over the back of it, and causes them to fall onto the floor along with said chair.  Kyungsoo screams as he loses his balance on the cushioned chair, however Jongin’s firm grip, arms looping underneath Kyungsoo’s armpits, prevented him from falling onto the hardwood floor.

 

Instead, the two boys land on the tapestried carpet in front of the fireplace as Jongin grunts, surprise evident in his tone of voice. It was a miracle that they managed to avoid landing on the rack of fire irons, or anywhere near the fireplace for that matter. Both were too stunned to say anything as Kyungsoo lay on top of Jongin, back pressed against Jongin’s front.

 

They lay like that for a short while, Jongin’s diaphragm expanding, causing Kyungsoo’s back to be lightly pushed by the other’s stomach. Their breaths were gradually evening out before Kyungsoo hurriedly pushed himself off of Jongin and twisted round to see where he had landed, crawling up slowly to his knees and pinning his hands on either side of Jongin’s small form on top of the elegantly patterned tapestry, simultaneously silky and coarse on the pads of Kyungsoo’s fingers.

 

Their eye contact lasted a good thirty seconds, Kyungsoo’s startled widened gaze contrasting Jongin’s shameless casual glance. The previous events before the fall soon dawned on Kyungsoo, and he quickly turned from startled to feigning annoyance. He started to hit Jongin as punishment, albeit whilst laughing.

 

“You’re such an idiot,” Kyungsoo giggled whilst hitting him. Jongin could only smile sheepishly, stress disappearing from his chest over the impacts of the fall.

 

Unfortunately, their laughing and teasing got cut short by a dramatic gasp. A looming shadow cast over the two giggly boys, faces only centimetres apart one on top of the other with hands pinning the other’s shoulders down.

 

“What on earth- ?!” shrieked Anne. “Get up from the floor this instant!” her carefully, sharply plucked thin eyebrows rose to the top of her forehead, eyes wider than an owl’s.

 

The boys frantically got up, panic quickly returning from before after the frequency and volume of the housekeeper’s shrill voice ruptured their eardrums, and she continued to squawk like the hawkeye that she was. Kyungsoo scowled to himself at her arrival, before seeing the almost parodic shock on her face. He coughed in an attempt to stifle his laugh, and shifted his eyes towards Jongin who looked like he was about to burst from holding his breath, shaking from trying to contain his hyperactivity.

 

She had a disgusted look on her face as she eyed both of them from top to bottom, keeping her unsatisfied gaze on Jongin for a bit longer, before continuing, “look at the state of your clothes. Luckily, a bath is being prepared for you after dinner,” she looked at Jongin matter-of-factly. “Now, pick that chair up and get a hold of yourselves, and sit down, dinner is about to be served,” her signature condescending tone dripped from her thin, scowling lips.

 

The two boys shared a knowing look and sat on opposite sides of the table. It still looked too empty, seats waiting to be sat on in the vast, lonely dining room, but Kyungsoo felt more comfortable eating with someone he trusted instead of having to dine in silence under close surveillance of The Scornful Hawkeye.

 

Tonight's meal was roast chicken, and Jongin had never seen such a huge plateful before. His eyes widened at the dish as he sat down beside Kyungsoo, who had already picked his fork up purposefully. He noticed that Kyungsoo played with his food a lot, pushing the meat away from his vegetables and separating each of them.

 

They started to eat enthusiastically as the waiters continued to place the napkins at a very precise angle, which Anne stated was compulsory to satisfy the full etiquette of appropriate dining. Kyungsoo rolled his eyes whilst Anne continued to explain the upcoming schedule of tonight’s events followed by the type of linen they need to collect in order to prepare their beds. They tried to eat in a comfortable, sensible silence until they began to laugh, sniffing through their noses under their breaths after smirking at each other, each planning a scheme to get this woman to shut up.

 

She had her back towards them, assuming her supposed masterly stance, and as Kyungsoo began to pick at his food, something lit up and showed on his face when he thought of a genius idea. He picked up two baby carrots from his plate and stuck them between his gums and mouth to make him look like a walrus, complementing the parody by pulling stupid faces and mimicking Anne’s neverending speech and making an effort to look as mockingly scornful as possible.

 

Jongin snorted, dropping his fork, causing it to clatter against the plate, then covered his mouth to pretend he had sneezed and started to shake from holding back so much laughter. He calmed down in order to proceed with his own idea, placing a pea onto his fork and aiming it towards… Anne’s backside. Jongin waited until she finished her speech, very focused from listening to the sound of her own voice, Kyungsoo’s eyes widening in disbelief, entertained by the suspense and covering his walrus mouth before he could choke on his carrots. Jongin flicked the fork and the pea flew and hit her right where he had wanted it to, but it unfortunately- or fortunately, depending on who you asked- had a tight hold onto Anne’s dress and stubbornly remained there, but it was the perfect timing as she was walking out of the door.

 

This was the cause of Jongin’s and Kyungsoo’s shortness of oxygen to the lungs as they were almost light-headed from holding their breaths. It reminded Kyungsoo of the Princess and the Pea, only Anne was no princess. He thought to himself that she was more fit to resemble a moody gremlin, and because of this, it was Kyungsoo who couldn’t hold it in anymore, and he let out the most obnoxious, bellowing laughter, holding his sides from how much they ached.

 

Jongin was proud of his feat, and for making Kyungsoo this entertained, a wide smile prominent on his face. He continued to try to make Kyungsoo laugh and placed two peas into his nostrils. However, the more he focused on trying to enhance the comedy in comedic genius, the less genius remained. The initial plan was to launch the peas from their ‘cannons’ towards Kyungsoo’s plate in attempt to start a Food War, but he became so distracted from the technical element of the launch and focused on the chubbiness of Kyungsoo’s cheeks caused by his sides of his lips pulled into a beaming heart-shaped smile as he continued to embark on his amusement, head leaning slightly back with a scrunched nose and eyes. Cute. Is all Jongin could think and he breathed in sharply, forgetting that he still had the peas in his nose.

 

Jongin choked, tears watering in his eyes. Kyungsoo opened his own eyes again to see the startling image and didn’t know whether he should be concerned or refrain from holding back another wave of laughter- the elder looked so ridiculous it was unbelievable, like a cat coughing up a hairball.

 

“Did you forget how to breath or something?” he tried to appear concerned, failing and letting another astounded giggle come through.

 

The other picked up a napkin and blew his nose to be rid of the green, mushy residue, embarrassment overtaking any pride he had before.

 

“I-i umm, I-” god, he sounded so stupid. Where had his logic gone? He chuckled embarrassingly. “I forgot which way forward was,” he cringed mentally, what did that even mean?

 

Nonetheless, he succeeded in his goal of getting Kyungsoo to laugh harder, the poor boy was crying and red in the face. Jongin joined in, catching Kyungsoo’s contagious bellowing and eventually both had tears streaming down their faces, high-pitched noises resembling amused responses, far too hysterical to be close to laughter by this point. Their food was long forgotten and grew cold from the lack of consumption. They sat there trying to regain their strength before giving up on trying to eat before eventually rising from their seats.

 

They circled the dining table, imitating Anne’s obnoxiously posh walk, nose lifted in the air, and moved to sit at each end of the long table just like Kings and Queens and raised their small glasses of water. They each downed their water to try and emit the heat from their flushed, aching faces.

 

Once they had quenched their thirsts, Jongin rose from his seat and gestured for his companion to do the same before kneeling down and addressing him.

 

“Your Majesty,” he exclaimed respectfully. Kyungsoo abided to the game and curtsied after he got off his throne, placing his hand in front of him, palm open gesturing for Jongin to stand up and grab hold of it. The two boys linked hands, their attempts at humble, princely facial expressions matching each other, eyelids lowered with a proud smile and raised eyebrows. They walked hand in hand out of the room and skipped down the corridor giggling.

 

 

 

After their supper, Jina put the two boys in the Victorian bathtub, which was big enough for the two of them. She put in some extra droplets of lavender oil to make it more bubbly. Jongin scooped up a handful of bubbles and placed them on his and Kyungsoo’s face to represent Father Christmas.

 

The younger beamed brightly and chuckled when Jongin lathered up his own hair into a shark fin and splashed around like a fish out of water. However, when Jina attempted to rub the shampoo into Kyungsoo’s hair, he flinched and softly wined, but then Jongin took his hands and showed him how to blow bubbles using a bar of soap as an attempt to distract him.

 

The distraction helped, and Jina was quick to scrub the dirt from his scalp. When the water started to go lukewarm and the bubbles dissolved, the two boys were dried down and put into their nightdresses. Jongin had to borrow one from Kyungsoo, which was a little short on the arms and only reached his knees.

 

Jina felt a wave of anxiety when she looked at Kyungsoo’s hair, it was severely tangled and would only get worse if she was to leave it - and she desperately wanted to cut it all off in his sleep. But perhaps Jongin would be able to help her, as Kyungsoo seems more relaxed in his presence.

 

Jongin sat down on the floor by the fire and Jina sat up on her knees behind him, gently brushing his hair. She could see Kyungsoo looking rather uncomfortable in the corner of her eye, but his eyes diverted to Jongin’s face and saw that he was not in any pain or discomfort. Jongin’s hair was longer than Kyungsoo’s, the soft waves sat almost on his shoulders but it was always bouncy and shone in the sunlight.

 

When it was Kyungsoo’s turn, tears had already crept into his eyes and his body started to shake. Jongin was first to embrace him into his arms and comfort him.

 

“It won’t hurt you, master Kyungsoo. I’ll be right by your side.”

 

The soothing words relaxed the boy, along with Jongin’s scent and warm hands in his own. When Jina started, Kyungsoo began to sob quietly and shook his head in protest. Jina looked at her brother with worry, she felt ever so sorry for the boy.

 

Jongin thought quickly on his feet and walked towards the bedside, he abruptly picked up one of Kyungsoo’s books resting on the table near the armchair.

 

“Why don’t you read to me?”

 

With more tears threatening to leave his glassy doe eyes and stream down his chubby cheeks, Kyungsoo nodded and began reading, hiccupping along the way. Jongin sat beside him, one hand holding Kyungsoo’s and asking him questions about the story.

 

The young boy was so immersed in talking and reading to Jongin that the comb through his hair felt like a feather to his skin and the loud bristles tugging through his knots were as quiet as a whisper. Jina’s eyes sparkled with glee when she had finished, she parted his hair on one side to show his cute round face that was always hidden behind wisps of hair.

 

As the evening drew on, the two boys were sent to bed after a mug of warm milk. Neither of them were sleepy, and both had planned to stay up all night telling ghost stories and giggling until sunrise. As soon as Jina left them with a single candle burning, Kyungsoo rolled over to face his friend.

 

“I’m glad you’re here with me.”

 

Jongin smiled at the boy, the candlelight flickered against his milky skin and his long eyelashes created a shadow over his cheeks.

 

The house creaked and made ever such odd noises, Jongin looked around the room, still in complete awe of how big it was compared to his tiny room in the cottage.

 

“Do you ever wonder about the paintings?” he asked Kyungsoo, who sat up and stared at one that was above the fireplace.

 

It was a portrait of a man and a woman, dressed in frilly frocks and odd looking hats.

 

“Yes. I wonder who they are and where are they now, they look like the lords and barons in the stories I’ve read,” commented Kyungsoo.

They spent hours talking, sharing stories of their lives before they met. Kyungsoo wanted to know everything about Jongin and didn’t hesitate to ask many questions. Their excitement from earlier in the day seemed to have catched up on them quickly, their bones and eyelids feeling heavy.

 

When it was near midnight, the fire was on its last log. Kyungsoo was half asleep when he heard a distant cry down the corridor. It was short, but still made the hairs on his arms stand up. A small whimper escaped his mouth, and he buried himself further under the duvet. Jongin immediately went to his friends aid, and took hold of his hand.

 

“Don’t be scared Kyungsoo, I will protect you,” he soothed, patting the back of his neck. “Don’t fear the noises in the dark, they’re just sounds, they can’t hurt you.”

 

The fretful boy began to tangle his fingers through his hair and tug, Jongin noticed this and thought that it looked rather painful. He leaned down and kissed the boys head and the hand that was tangled in dark locks.


	6. The Crying in the Corridor.

Kyungsoo thought the weather in the Yorkshire countryside was very different to London, there was no telling what the next day may bring. A few weeks after his sleepover with Jongin, he was awakened one night by the sound of rain beating with heavy drops against his window. It was pouring down in torrents and the wind was withering around the corners and in the chimneys of the huge old house. Kyungsoo sat up in bed and had a sour taste in his mouth from the melancholy that the weather caused.

 

“This rain came because it knew I did not want it.”

 

He threw himself back on his pillow and buried his face. He did not cry, but he lay and hated the sound of the heavily beating rain and the wind. He could not go to sleep again, and the mournful sound kept him awake, because he felt mournful himself. If he had felt happy it would probably have lulled him to sleep.

 

“It sounds just like a person lost on the moor and wandering on and on crying,” he said.

 

He had been lying awake, turning from side to side for about an hour, when suddenly something made him sit up in bed and turn his head towards the door listening. He listened and he listened.

 

“It isn’t the wind now,” he said in a loud whisper. “That isn’t the wind. It is different. It is that crying I heard before.”

 

The door of his room was ajar and the sound came down the corridor, a far-off faint sound of fretful crying. He listened for a few minutes and each minute he became more and more sure. Something in his tiny little body made him intrigued, perhaps the fact that he was in a rebellious mood made him bold. He put his foot out of bed and stood on the floor.

 

“I am going to find out what it is,” he said. “Everybody is in bed and I don’t care about Anne‒I don’t care!”

 

There was a chamberstick by his bedside and he took it up and went softly out of the room. The corridor looked very long and dark, but he was too anxious to mind that. He thought he remembered the corners he must turn to find the short corridor with the door covered with tapestry⸺the one Anne had come through the day he lost himself.

 

The sound had come up that passage. So he went on with his dim light, almost feeling his way, his heart beating so loud that he fancied he could hear it. The far-off, faint crying went on and led him. Sometimes it stopped for a moment or so and then began again. Was this the right corner to turn?

 

He stopped and thought.

 

Yes, it was.

 

Down this passage and then to the left, and then up two broad steps, and then to the right again.

 

Yes, there was the tapestry door.

 

He pushed it open very gently and closed it behind him, and he stood in the corridor and could hear the crying quite plainly, though it was not loud.

 

It was on the other side of the wall at his left and a few yards farther on there was a door. He opened the door and found himself in a big room with ancient, handsome furniture in it.

 

Something caught the corner of his eye and made his heart beat fast and his stomach flutter. He walked towards the oak vanity and placed the chamberstick down, there was a collection of photographs in frames that had gathered enough dust from many years. He stared at one particular picture, it stood out to him like a sore thumb. He recognised the person like he had seen them in his dreams, the lady in white was sitting in a flowerbed, her long hair flowed down to her waist and she was smiling. She had the same heart-shaped lips as Kyungsoo and traced her face with his finger.

 

“Mother,” he whispered out loud.

 

He knew in his heart that the woman in the photograph was his mother. He had never seen pictures of his parents, but Kyungsoo had seen two people in his dreams so many times he was certain that they were them. He unfastened the frame and took the picture out, placing it in the pocket of his dressing gown. He admired the rest of the vanity, there were other pictures with people that he didn’t recognise and a wooden music box, he opened it to find strings of pearls and gold rings.

 

There was a tiny drawer on the music box and he unfastened it, there was a rusty old key. He looked at it for quite a long time. He turned it over and over, examining every tiny detail. He wondered if this key would open the door to the garden. He pocketed it, deciding that he would find out later.

 

 

 

Kyungsoo looked around the room, he wondered who slept there. He reached out to open the wardrobe when a cry ran through the walls. It was so clear, it must have come from next door. Kyungsoo made his way out of the bedroom and closed the door behind him, he carried on down the hallway until he found another door a few yards down. He could see a glimmer of light coming from beneath it. The Someone was crying in that room, and it was quite a young Someone.

 

So he walked to the door and pushed it open, the room was just as big as his own. There was a low fire glowing faintly on the hearth and a night-light burning by the side of a carved, four-poster bed hung with brocade, and on the bed was lying a boy, crying pitifully.

 

Kyungsoo wondered if he was in a real place of if he had fallen asleep again and was dreaming without knowing it.

 

The boy had a sharp, delicate face, the colour of ivory, and eyes the shape of almonds. He also had a lot of hair which tumbled over his forehead in heavy locks and made his thin face seem smaller. He looked like a boy who had been ill, but he was crying more as if he were tired and cross than as if he were in pain.

 

Kyungsoo stood near the door with his chamberstick in his hand, holding his breath. Then he crept across the room, and as he drew nearer the light attracted the boy’s attention and he turned his head on his pillow and stared at him, his chocolate eyes opening so wide that they seemed immense.

 

“Who are you?” he said at last in a half-frightened whisper. “Are you a ghost?”

 

“No, I am not.” Kyungsoo answered, his own whisper sounding half-frightened. “Are you one?”

 

He stared and stared. Kyungsoo could not help noticing what strange eyes he had.

 

“No,” the boy replied, after waiting a moment or so. “I am Minseok.”

 

“Who is Minseok?” Kyungsoo faltered.

“I am Kim Minseok. Who are you?”

“I am Doh Kyungsoo. Mr. Kim is my uncle.”

“He is my father,” said Minseok. “Come here.” still keeping his strange eyes fixed on him with an anxious expression. Kyungsoo came close to the bed and stood beside him.

“You are real, aren’t you?” the boy said. “I have such real dreams very often. You might be one of them.”

 

“I am real. For a minute I thought you might be a dream, too.”

 

“Where did you come from?” The pale boy asked.

 

“From my own room. The wind was howling so loud I couldn’t sleep and I heard someone crying and wanted to find out who it was. What were you crying for?”

 

“Because I couldn’t go to sleep either, and my head ached,” Minseok replied.

 

“What is my uncle like?” Kyungsoo asked. A sort of angry shadow passed over the boy’s face.

 

“He almost hates me,” he said. “My mother died when I was born and it makes him wretched to look at me. He thinks I don’t know, but I’ve heard people talking.”

 

Kyungsoo hummed in response, “I know what that feels like.”

 

The fragile boy frowned and waited for the other to continue.

 

“I used to live in an orphanage before your father adopted me. The maids, though they helped us and cared for us, they always looked at us pitifully and talked about us behind our backs thinking we couldn’t hear,” Kyungsoo stopped to huff and ponder more about what was happening.

 

Minseok had an undetectable look in his eyes before replying, “The servants talk about me behind their backs too. They think I can’t hear them, they say horrible things about me.”

 

Kyungsoo sat down on a cushioned stool, he did not want to go away at all. He wanted to stay in the mysterious, hidden-away room and talk to the mysterious boy.

 

“I want to hear all about you,” Minseok said.

“What do you want me to tell you?” Kyungsoo replied.

 

Minseok wanted to know how long Kyungsoo had been at Misselthwaite; he wanted to know which corridor his room was on; if he disliked the moor as much as Minseok did. Kyungsoo answered all these questions and many more, the younger boy lay back on his pillow and listened. Kyungsoo was just as curious about his cousin, but the younger boy didn’t stop asking questions. Eventually, Minseok stopped and the next moment he gave Kyungsoo a surprise.

 

“I am going to let you look at something,” he said. “Do you see that rose-coloured silk curtain hanging on the wall over the mantelpiece?”

Kyungsoo had not noticed it before, but he looked up and saw it. It was a curtain of soft silk hanging over what seemed to be some picture.

“Yes,” he answered.

 

“There is a cord hanging from it,” said Minseok. “Go and pull it.”

 

Kyungsoo got up, much mystified, and found the cord. When he pulled it the silk curtain ran back on rings and when it ran back it uncovered a picture. It was the picture of a girl with a laughing face. She had her hair tied up with a blue ribbon and her happy, lovely eyes were exactly like Minseok’s unhappy ones.

 

“She is my mother,” said Minseok complainingly. “I don’t see why she died. Sometimes I hate her for doing it. If she had lived I believe I should have not have been ill and my father would not have hated to look at me.”

 

“What do you mean you are ill?” Kyungsoo questioned.

 

“They say I will become mad like my father,” Minseok grumbled. “He slipped into a darkness a long time ago. They say he talks to himself and paces his room.”

 

“Is that why you never leave the room?” he asked again.

 

“Yes. I feel safe here. The darkness can’t touch me here.”

 

Kyungsoo thought a lot. He found his cousin to be rather odd and he didn’t understand why Minseok should stay in his room without sunlight. Keeping him in his room is making him sick. He looked around the room and it wasn’t any different to his room, except Minseok had toys and games scattered across his nursery. There was books stacked up like towers and a small wooden rocking horse by the window. Kyungsoo noticed that the windows were boarded up, letting in not a single spec of sunlight.

 

There were a few moments of silence and then Kyungsoo spoke.

“What would Anne do if she found out that I had been here?” he inquired.

 

“She would do as I told her to do,” Minseok answered. “They have to do everything I tell them to do. I should tell her that I wanted you to come here and talk to me every day. I am glad you came. We will keep this a little secret, just between us.”

 

“I would like that” said Kyungsoo. “I will come as often as I can. I have been here a long time, I should go back to my room.”

 

“I wish I could go to sleep before you leave me,” Minseok said rather shyly.

 

“Shut your eyes,” said Kyungsoo, drawing his footstool closer, “and I will pat your hand and stroke it and sing something quite low.”

 

“I should like that perhaps,” he said drowsily.

Somehow he was sorry for Minseok and did not want him to lie awake, so he leaned against the bed and began to stroke and pat his hand and sing a very low song. When he looked at his cousin, his lashes were lying close against his cheeks, for his eyes were shut and he was fast asleep. He got up softly, took his candle, and crept away without making a sound.

 

 

 

The moor was hidden in mist when the morning came, and the rain had not stopped pouring down. There could be no going out of doors. Jina was so busy that Kyungsoo had no opportunity of talking to her, he wanted to tell her all about the key and his long lost cousin. In the afternoon he asked her to come sit with him in his chamber. She came, bringing the stocking she was always knitting when she had nothing else to do.

 

“What’s the matter with you?” she asked as soon as they sat down. “You look as if you have something to say.”

“I have. I have found out what the crying was,” Kyungsoo said excitedly.

 

Jina let her knitting drop on her knee and gazed at the boy with startled eyes.

“You haven’t!” she exclaimed. “Never!”

 

“I heard it in the night, I got up and went to see where it came from. It was Minseok. I found him. My cousin.”

 

Jina’s face became red with fright.

“Eh! Master Kyungsoo!” she said, half crying, “You shouldn’t have done it—you shouldn’t! That’ll get me in trouble. I never told anyone about himーbut that’ll get me in trouble. I shall lose my place and what’ll Mother do!”

 

“You won’t lose your place.” said Kyungsoo. “He was glad I came.”

 

“Was he?” cried Jina. “Are you sure? You don’t know what he’s like when anything vexes him. He’s a big lad to cry like a baby, but when he’s in a passion of rage he’ll fair scream just to frighten us.”

 

“He wasn’t vexed,” Kyungsoo said. “I asked him if I should go away and he made me stay. He asked me questions and I sat and talked to him about where I came from and he showed me a picture of his Mother. He wouldn’t let me go.”

 

Jina fairly gasped with amazement. “If Anne finds out, she’ll think I broke orders and told you. I don’t know what to do!”

 

“Please don’t tell Anne!” Kyungsoo cried. He did not want to get into any kind of trouble and he certainly didn’t want Jina to lose her job. He was starting to like her a lot. “He said he’s not going to tell anyone, it’s going to be a sort of secret.”

 

“What will happen if she catches you?”

 

Kyungsoo’s bottom lip began to wobble with worry. He didn’t understand what was so wrong with meeting his cousin.

 

“You don’t know what Anne could do! She might ban Jongin from ever coming over, or stop  you from playing on the moors.” Jina scolded as Kyungsoo began to cry. He was flushed red while thick tears fell down his cheeks. He was starting to wish he never told her.

 

“I-I’m sorry.” He managed to mumble after calming down for a little bit.

 

“Master Kyungsoo, you need to be careful. You can’t go poking around, especially at night! If your uncle finds out about this, he might send you away!” The elder explained, she noticed Kyungsoo was fidgeting with his hair like he always did and gently took his hand away and carressed it. She whispered soft apologies for yelling at the boy and let him sit in her lap for awhile, rubbing his back until he had calmed down and his tears had dried.

 

“Promise me you won’t go poking around again, I don’t want to lose you.” Jina sighed, she kissed the top of his head and combed his hair out of his eyes with her fingers.

 

“What is the matter with Minseok? He told me he is sick.” asked Kyungsoo.

 

“Nobody knows for sure and certain, his father went off his head when Minseok was born. He left him in the middle of the night and didn’t return for years.”

 

“Why did he leave?” Kyungsoo’s curiosity rose.

 

“No one really knows why. He couldn’t bare to look at his son.” Jina sighed sadly. They sat in silence for a while, until a bell rang and she rolled up her knitting and left the room.

 

Kyungsoo threw himself on his bed with boredom and deep thought. Everything about his new house was a mystery. The strangest house he ever lived in!

 

Just then, he stretched his arms over his head and felt a hard object under his pillow. He sat up and pulled it away, the mysterious key he found last night was laying there, just how he left it.

 

He picked it up and examined it closer. “How curious.” he thought to himself. “I wonder if this is the key to the mysterious door.”

 

The boy looked up to see that the weather had not made any better changes, the wind was so strong it was pushing the rain into tornados in the sky. It was too awful to go outside, it wouldn’t be too long until the sky eats away the sun and he would be in darkness. Tomorrow, he thought.

 

Tomorrow will be the day.


	7. Behind the Evergreen Ivy.

Kyungsoo woke up before the sun rose, and sat upright in bed, beaming brightly. He was ecstatic about today, so much that during the night he tossed and turned dreaming of magical worlds beyond the locked door, barely managing to sleep.

 

As the curtains were already drawn, he tiptoed across the freezing hardwood floors barefoot towards the large window, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and slipped behind the velvet curtains to kneel at the window seat. A concoction of purple-grey and deep blue reflected his doe eyes, matching the hues of the moors and the early-morning sky filled with thick dark clouds, some of which had spilled further down to Earth causing the fog to sit across the fields.

 

He sat and stared at the clouds, watching them slowly move across the landscape. It had been a long time since he sat and watched the sunrise, and after a while the sun peaked from the horizon, slowly making the sky become lighter. But the cold and dullness of the winter sunrise was incomparable to the beauty of summer, it made Kyungsoo feel sad.

 

Nevertheless, he couldn’t wait to go outside, so sat and waited, and waited for Jina to arrive and light his fire and bring his meal. Waddling back to bed as it was a cold morning, he decided to read something while he waited, and propped his pillows behind his back to snuggle under the huge duvet.

 

Kyungsoo had nearly dosed back to sleep when Jina came in, she was humming a soft tune and smiling at the boy. He stayed in bed and waited until the hearth was lit before climbing down the bed and sitting in an armchair close by the heat.

 

“I’ve been up before sunrise,” he said to Jina, warming his toes. “I want to go outside today.”

 

Jina smiled at the boy, relieved at his statement and agreeing that the fresh air will do him good to clear out his brain. It had been a few days since he had been outside, and she had begun to worry that he had become too immersed in his stories.

 

“Anne will be pleased. Come eat before it gets too cold, I brought you your favourite; oatmeal with blueberries and bananas.”

 

Kyungsoo didn’t waste time when eating. He let Jina chatter on as normal while she helped herself to a cup of tea. The wind was howling across the moors, branches from nearby trees tapped against the window.

 

“You’re eating very well today,” Jina observed. Kyungsoo helped himself to extra blueberries and drizzled a healthy amount of honey into his oatmeal.

 

“It tastes nice today. Can I have some more blueberries?” noticing that he had scoffed the whole bowl.

 

“You can have some more after lunch. Benjamin picked them just for you.”

 

“Who’s Benjamin?” The boy wondered. He hadn’t met anyone called Benjamin before.

 

“He’s one of the gardeners that tend to the fruit and vegetables. You must have met him, spending so much time outside.”

 

Kyungsoo pondered for a second. “Does he wear a checkered hat and sometimes talks to the robin?”

 

Jina smiled. “Yes! That’s him. You must thank him later. He’d be delighted to know you enjoyed his fruits.”

 

“Does he grow a lot of fruit?”

 

“I think so. Most fruits aren’t ready to be harvested yet. In the spring and summer time, you’ll be eating so many strawberries!”

 

The boy wondered what else Benjamin had grown in the gardens. He didn’t eat a lot of fruit at the orphanage because it was expensive and the nuns wanted to fatten the children up with meats and bread. He finished up eating and then brushed his teeth while Jina picked out his outfit for the day.

 

She dressed him in black cords, a cotton white shirt with a frilly collar overlapping the neck of his emerald green knitted jumper. Kyungsoo put his boots and coat on, and before he ran downstairs, she wrapped a long scarf around his neck three times before tying it and placing his black beret on his head. When Jina left his room, he quickly took the key from under his pillow and pocketed it, giggling and shaking with excitement.

 

As he left through the front door into the bitter cold, Jina had called him back holding his skipping rope. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” She beamed, handing the rope to the boy.

 

Hopefully this time Kyungsoo wouldn’t trip over, as his scarred knees had just about healed.

 

Humming down the long narrow paths and through the fruit garden, he skipped all around the gardens. Benjamin wasn’t there as he had hoped, but he was too eager to get to the door to worry about that further. He remembered the way off by heart, the fog had faded and the gardens were much clearer, the frost had melted from plants and grass too.

 

When he turned the corner of the hedge, his heart started to palpitate fast and hammer in his small chest. Although the walls of the garden were covered in ivy, Kyungsoo still knew where the door was. The key felt heavy in his pocket, it bounced around as he skipped along the pathway.

 

Once he reached the doorway, a small tweet was heard. Kyungsoo looked up to see the Robin sitting on the top of the ivy, swaying in the wind.

 

“You showed me the way, and I found the key!” Kyungsoo said cheerfully. The robin tilted his head, as if he understood everything Kyungsoo said.

 

He put his hands under the leaves and began to pull and push them aside. Thick as the ivy hung, it nearly all was a loose and swinging curtain. Kyungsoo’s heart began to thump, and the robin kept singing and flapping his small, fluffy wings.

 

He put his hands in his pocket and drew out the key, he found that it fitted the keyhole. He put the key in and turned it. It took two hands to do it, it was stiff and cold.

 

And then he took a long breath and looked behind him up the long walk to see if anyone was coming. Nope. No one ever did come, it seemed, and he took another long breath, because he could not help it, he held back the swinging curtain of ivy and pushed back the door which opened slowly―slowly.

 

Then he slipped through it, and shut it behind him. He stood with his back against it, looking about him and breathing quite fast with excitement, and wonder, and delight.

 

He was standing inside the garden.

 

 

 

 

 

It was the sweetest, most mysterious-looking place anyone could imagine. The high walls which shut it in were covered with the leafless stems of climbing roses, which were so thick that they were matted together - just like Kyungsoo’s own nest of hair. Kyungsoo knew they were roses because he had seen them in his story books. The entire ground was covered with grass of a wintry brown, and out of it grew clumps of bushes which were surely rose bushes, if they were even still alive. There were numbers of standard roses which had so spread their branches that they were like little trees. Other trees stumped the garden too, and one of the things which made the place look strangest and loveliest was that climbing roses had run all over them and swung down long tendrils which made light swaying curtains.

 

No roses were blooming on the bushes, and Kyungsoo did not know whether they were dead or alive, but their thin grey or brown branches and sprays looked like a ort of hazy mantle spreading over everything, walls, and trees, and even brown grass, where they had fallen from their fastenings and run along the ground. It was this hazy tangle from tree to tree which made it look so mysterious.

 

“It’s so still!” He whispered. “How still.”

 

Then he waited a moment and listened to the stillness. The robin, who had flown to his tree-top, was still as all the rest.

 

“No wonder it is still,” he whispered again. “I am the first person who has spoken in here for many years.”

 

He moved away from the door, stepping as softly as if he were afraid of awakening someone. He walked under one of the fairy-like grey arches between the trees and looked up at the sprays and tendrils which formed them.

 

“I wonder if they are all dead,” he said. “I hope not.”

 

If Jongin were here with him, he would be able to tell Kyungsoo whether the wood was alive by looking at it, but he could only see that there were only grey or brown sprays and branches, and none of them showed any signs of even a tiny lead-bud anywhere.

 

But he was inside the wonderful garden, and he could come through the door under the ivy any time, and he felt as if he had found a world all his own. Not even the magical stories he had read couldn’t compare.

 

The sun started to shine inside the four walls and the high arch of blue sky over this particular piece of Misselthwaite seemed even more brilliant and soft than it was over the moor. The robin flew down from the treetops and hopped about from one bush to another. He chirped a good deal as if he were showing Kyungsoo things. Everything was strange and silent, and he seemed to be hundreds of miles away from anyone, but somehow he did not feel lonely at all.

 

His skipping rope hung over his arm when he came in, and after he had walked about for a while he thought he would skip round the whole garden, stopping when he wanted to look at the scenery before him. There seemed to have been grass paths here and there, and in one or two corners there were alcoves of evergreen with stone seats or tall moss-covered flower-urns in them.

 

Abandoning the skipping rope, he approached the alcoves with a renewed interest. There had once been a flower-bed in it, and he thought he saw something sticking out of the black earth―some sharp little pale green points.

 

He wondered what they were, and he bent very close to them and sniffed the fresh scent of damp earth. It had a pungent kick in his nostrils- one he liked very much. He thought they must be flowers, but he didn’t have any idea what kind.

 

The wet damp grasslands cushioned his bound feet as he decided to walk around, slowly and keeping his eyes on the ground. He looked in the old border-beds among the grass, and after he had gone round, taking in all that his eyes could absorb so as not to miss a single beautiful detail, he had found a sharp, pale green point, and became quite excited again.

 

“It isn’t a dead garden,” he cried out softly to himself. “Even if the roses are dead, there are other things alive!”

 

He wondered why the garden had been abandoned and not cared for. Why it was so hauntingly still.

 

Even though he didn’t know anything about gardening, the grass seemed so thick in some places where the green points were pushing their way through that he thought they did not seem to have room enough to grow. Remembering all those times he snuck around to where Jongin would tend to the animals and dug out weeds for them to eat, he searched around until he found a rather sharp piece of wood and knelt down and dug and weeded out the weeds and grass until he made nice little clear places around them.

 

“Now they look as if they could breathe,” he said, after he had finished with the first ones. “I am doing to do ever so many more. I wish Jongin was here to help. He would know what was alive or dead and could help me.”

 

He went from place to place, and dug and weeded, and enjoyed himself so immensely that he was led on from bed to bed and into the grass under the trees. The exercise made him so warm that he first threw his coat off, and then his hat and scarf. The robin was tremendously busy, he was very much pleased to see gardening begun on his own estate; where gardening is done all sorts of delightful things to eat are turned up with the soil. He was hopping around Kyungsoo’s hands, taking out bits off dead grass the boy had pulled away and collected a hefty amount to take back to his nest.

 

Master Kyungsoo worked in his garden until it was time to go to his midday dinner. In fact he was rather late in remembering, and when he put on his coat, hat and scarf, he could not believe that he had been working two or three hours. He had actually been happy all the time; and dozens and dozens of the tiny, pale green points were to be seen in cleared places, looking twice as cheerful as they had looked before when the grass and weeds had been smothering them.

 

“I shall come back this afternoon,” he told the garden, looking all around at his new kingdom, and speaking to the trees and rose bushes as if they heard.

Then he ran lightly across the grass, pushed open the slow old door, and slipped through it under the ivy.

 

 

 

The digging around and fresh air did him good, as soon as he got indoors he went straight to the dining room to sit down and eat. He helped himself to two pieces of meat and Jina was surprised to see what good the outdoors did for him.

 

In the course of his digging, Kyungsoo found himself digging up a sort of white root rather like an onion. He put it back in its place and patted the earth down carefully.

 

“Jina,” he said, “what are those white roots that look like onions?”

 

“They’re bulbs,” answered Jina. “Lots of spring flowers grow from them. The very little ones are snowdrops and crocuses, and the big ones are daffodils and jonquils. They are nice, Jongin’s got a whole lot of them planted out in our bit of garden.”

 

“Does Jongin know all about them?” asked Kyungsoo, a new idea taking possession of him.

 

“Jongin can make a flower grow out of a brick wall, he just whispers things out of the ground.”

 

His work in the garden and the excitement of discovering his own little secret made him feel quiet and thoughtful. He felt drowsy from his afternoon dinner, and he let his head rest on the cushioned seat of the armchair near him. Fresh air and digging made him feel so comfortably tired that he fell asleep by the fire.

 

 

 

The sun shone down for nearly a week on the secret garden. The Secret Garden was what Kyungsoo called it when he was thinking about it. He liked the name, and even more so the feeling that when its beautiful old walls shut him in, no one knew where he was. It seemed almost like being shut out of the world in a fairytale, and after reading many books about fairies and secret gardens- he enjoyed the fact that he was now able to have his own one.

 

In some of the stories that he read, naive kingdoms and princesses went to sleep in the garden for hundreds of years, which he thought must be rather stupid. He had no intention of going to sleep, and, in fact, he was becoming more awake and vibrant with each day that passed at Misselthwaite. Having grown fond of being outdoors where he ran around faster and was now able to skip to a hundred; he no longer hated the wind, but rather enjoyed it.

 

The bulbs in the secret garden must have been astonished; such nice clear spaces were made around them that they had all the breathing space they wanted, and - without Kyungsoo’s knowledge- they had really begun to cheer up under the dark earth and work tremendously by anchoring their roots and cosying themselves to the bed made for them. The sun could get at them and warm them, and when the rain came down it could reach them at once, so they began to feel very much alive.

 

Benjamin the gardener gifted the odd boy with his very own spade, it was tiny for the old man but it was perfect for Kyungsoo’s little fingers. He had told Benjamin all about his new obsession with gardens and asked him many questions about seeds and flowers, the gardener grunted most of the time, which made him see uninterested that Kyungsoo was pestering him, and yet he would go out of his way to pick blueberries and give him his old spades.

 

Kyungsoo started to feel like Mr McGregor from his favourite book, except he wasn’t a nasty old man that wanted to eat rabbits and put them in pies. Kyungsoo wouldn’t mind having rabbit friends as Jongin did. He would make them little bonnets and jackets and talk to them.

 

Overall, Kyungsoo was an odd, determined little person, and now he had something interesting to be determined about, he was very much absorbed indeed. He worked and dug and pulled up weeds steadily, only becoming more pleased with his work every hour instead of growing tired of it. The pale green points seemed to be starting up everywhere, and each day he was sure he found tiny new ones, some so tiny that they barely peeped above the earth.

 

He wondered how long it would be before they showed and bloomed, sometimes he stopped digging to look at the garden and try to imagine what it would be like when it was covered with thousands of lovely things in bloom.

 

During the week of sunshine, he started to converse more with Benjamin. He surprised him several times by seeming to jump up beside him as if he sprang out of the earth. Kyungsoo talked a lot to Benjamin, but he never mentioned the secret garden. Not even Jina or Jongin knew about it.

 

 

 

 

After Kyungsoo’s lunchtime dinner, he set back outside with his little spade. He walked down the path, the familiar trees passing by when he noticed a figure in the distance. As he got closer he could see that it was Jongin, sitting on a tree trunk feeding crumbs of bread to a squirrel.

 

He did not want to scare away the animal, but Kyungsoo had not seen his friend in what felt like forever, and he wanted to jump on the lad. Jongin had noticed Kyungsoo’s presence, and he sprinkled the rest of the bread on the bark and began to walk towards the boy.

 

“Jongin!” Kyungsoo cried with joy, he missed him so much. He wanted to put his arms around him and smell him. “I have been looking for you.”

 

“I have been waiting for you too. My sister told me you have started digging your own little garden.” The elder beamed, his dimple standing out more now the sun was out. Kyungsoo noticed how golden Jongin’s skin was in the sunlight, he glowed and glistened just like honey.

 

It had only been a week since they had seen each other, after their sleepover the two boys played outside and Kyungsoo helped Jongin with his reading. In the week it felt like a lifetime.

 

“Could you keep a secret?” Kyungsoo asked. He knew Jongin wouldn’t tell anyone about his findings, but he still wanted to ask.

 

“I’m keeping secrets all the time,” Jongin replied. “If I couldn’t keep secrets from fox cubs, and birds nests and wild things there’d be nothing safe on the moor. I can keep secrets.”

 

Kyungsoo put out his hand and clutched onto Jongin’s sleeve. He led him around the laurel path and to the walk where the ivy grew so thickly. Jongin followed him with a curious look on his face. He felt as if he were being led to look at some strange bird’s nest and must move softly. Kyungsoo stepped to the wall and lifted the hanging ivy, he pushed the door and they passed in together, and then Kyungsoo stood and waved his hand round defiantly.

 

“This is it,” he said. “It’s a secret garden, and I’m the only one in the world who wants it to be alive.”

 

Jongin looked round and round about it, mouth gaped slightly. “It is a queer, pretty place. It’s as if I were dreaming,” he whispered.

 

For two or three minutes Jongin stood to look round him, while Kyungsoo watched him, and then he began to walk about softly, even more lightly than Kyungsoo had walked the first time he had found himself inside the four walls. His eyes seemed to be taking in everything―the grey trees with the grey creepers climbing over them and hanging from their branches, the tangle on the walls and among the grass, the evergreen alcoves with the stone seats and tall flower urns standing in them.

 

“I never thought I’d see this place,” he said at last in a whisper.

 

“It’s the garden, isn’t it? The one my uncle locked up years ago.” Kyungsoo replied. Jongin nodded and stopped to look at the lovely grey tangle above them, his cub like-eyes looked queerly happy.

 

“The nests will be here come springtime,” he said. “It will be the safest nesting place in England. No one ever coming near, I wonder if all the birds on the moor build their nests here.”

 

Kyungsoo tangled his fingers with Jongin’s, feeling a warm sensation through his hand that spread throughout his body and settled in his stomach.  “Will there be roses?” he whispered. “Can you tell? I thought perhaps they were all dead.”

 

“Not all of them,” Jongin answered, “Look here!”

 

Scanning his surroundings, he stepped over to the nearest tree―an old one with grey lichen all over its bark, but upholding a curtain of tangled sprays and branches, then took a thick knife out of his pocket and opened one of its blades.

 

“There’s lots of dead wood that ought to be cut out,” he said. “And there’s a lot of old wood, but it made some new last year.” He touched a shoot which looked brownish-green instead of hard, dry grey.

 

Kyungsoo touched it himself in an eager, reverent way.

 

“It’s as wick as you or me,” Jongin said, smiling at the boy.

 

“What’s wick?”

 

“Alive. This whole place is alive.” Jongin replied, then went around from tree to tree and from bush to bush. Jongin showed Kyungsoo things which he thought was wonderful. Using his tactics with his knife, he knew how to cut the dry and dead wood away, and could tell when an unpromising bough or twig had still green life in it. In the course of half an hour, Kyungsoo thought he could tell too, and when he cut through a lifeless-looking branch he would cry out joyfully under his breath when he caught the sight of the least shade of moist green.

 

“How did you even find it?” Jongin asked after a while of walking around. “Surely it was locked?”

 

“The Robin showed me the way.” Kyungsoo replied smiling, “I think he likes me. I found the key in an abandoned room in the house, it was with pictures of my mother. Do you think she knew about it?”

 

“I don’t know. These things are not to be spoken about. That’s why this place was locked up.”

 

Kyungsoo didn’t understand. He had so many questions, about the garden, his mother, his cousin. But he felt like no one had the answers for him. So he didn’t ask anymore.

 

“We shouldn’t tell anyone, this is our secret garden.” He said after a short period of silence. “We can come here every day, and tidy it and make it alive again.”

 

“This will be our secret. Not even the animals on the moor will know. I’ll come every day if you want me, rain or shine,” Jongin replied. “Shut in here with you waking up a garden makes me feel alive.”

 

Kyungsoo’s heart felt like it was going to burst out of his tiny chest. Jongin began to walk about, looking up in the trees and at the walls and bushes with a thoughtful expression.

 

“I wouldn’t want to make it look like a typical garden, all clipped and spick and span, would you?” he said. “It’s nicer like this with things running wild and swinging. Like a lost kingdom.”

 

“What kind of flowers will grow, can you tell?” Kyungsoo asked curiously.

 

Jongin walked over to an area that Kyungsoo had cleared, “These are bluebells, and over here, these are Foxgloves.” He took Kyungsoo’s had and pointed at each bush, every stem and told him what they would be, what they would look like by spring and what colours they would be.

 

“In the summer, it will be so beautiful and enchanting,” Jongin said to the boy. “We could plant our own seeds here, watch them grow.”

 

“Will you show me?”

 

“Of course. I have packets of seeds at home. I’ll bring them tomorrow and show you. We can make this place really wonderful.”

 

They walked towards a large tree and Kyungsoo noticed there was a swing tied to one of its branches. It was covered in vines and leaves and was rather well hidden. The boy brushed them off and sat on the large wooden seat.

 

“I have seen my Mother on this swing, in my dreams,” he whispered, staring above him and gentle swaying. Jongin walked behind him and began to push the boy lightly. They took it in turns on the swing, Kyungsoo used all his strength to push Jongin as high as he could, and they sat on it together facing each other.

 

“I’m so happy you showed me your secret,” Jongin said, not taking his eyes away from Kyungsoo’s.

 

Kyungsoo startled when he heard the big clock in the courtyard strike the hour of his midday dinner.

 

“I shall have to go,” he said mournfully. “And you will have to go too, won’t you?”

 

Jongin smiled at the boy. “My dinner’s easy to carry about with me,” he said. “Mother always lets me put a bit of something in my pocket.”

 

He picked up his coat from the grass and brought out of a pocket a lumpy little bundle tied up in a quite clean, coarse, blue and white handkerchief. It held two thick pieces of bread with a slice of something laid between them.

 

“It’s often nothing but bread,” he said, “but I’ve got a fine slice of fat bacon with it today.”

 

Kyungsoo thought it looked like an unusual dinner, but he seemed ready to enjoy it. Reluctant on leaving Jongin, he hesitated before walking away, but he knew that he would see him tomorrow. They both went slowly to the door in the wall and once they were through the ivy, Kyungsoo stopped and turned to him.

 

“Whatever happens, you wouldn’t ever tell?” he didn’t want anyone to find out, and he didn’t want to get into any kind of trouble.

 

Jongin’s poppy-coloured cheeks were distended with his first big bite of bread and bacon, but he managed to smile encouragingly.

 

“If you were a missel thrush and showed me where your nest was, do you think I’d tell anyone?” he said. “You are as safe as a missel thrush.”

 

And he was quite sure he was.

 

With that, Kyungsoo smiled with ease before departing and running back to the Moors. As he reached the entrance, Kyungsoo ran so fast that he was rather out of breath when he reached his room. His hair was ruffled on his forehead and his cheeks were bright pink, his dinner was waiting on the table, and Jina was waiting near it.

 

“You’re a bit late,” she said. “Where have you been?”

 

Before Kyungsoo could open his mouth to reply, Anne came barging through the room.

 

“Jina, get Master Kyungsoo ready. His uncle has arrived and wishes to see him right away.”


	8. Awakening of the garden.

All the pink left Kyungsoo’s cheeks. His heart began to thump and he felt himself changing into a stiff, plain silent child again. He did not even answer Anne, but turned and walked into his bedroom followed by Jina. He said nothing while he was changed into a white shirt with many ruffles and wide sleeves that sat like bells on his thin, bony wrists. Kyungsoo felt like the miserable children in the paintings around the house.

 

After an approving nod from Anne, he followed her down the corridors in silence. What was there to say? He was obliged to go and see Kim Jiwoo, and he would not like him. Kyungsoo knew what his uncle would think of him.

 

He was taken to a part of the house that he had not been into before. At last Anne knocked at a door and when someone said, “Come in,” they entered the room together. A man was sitting in an arm-chair before the fire, and Anne spoke to him.

 

“This is Master Kyungsoo, sir,” she said.

 

“You can go and leave him here. I will ring for you when I want you to take him away,” said Jiwoo.

 

When she went out and closed the door, Kyungsoo could only stand there waiting, a plain little thing, fumbling his nimble fingers together. He could see that the man in the chair had high, crooked shoulders and he had black hair streaked with white. He turned his head over his high shoulders and spoke.

 

“Come here!”

 

Kyungsoo trembled and stepped in closer to him hesitantly. He was not ugly. His face would have been handsome if it had not been so miserable. Jiwoo looked at his nephew as if he did not know what to do with him. He lifted his head up and made eye contact with the boy for several seconds before letting out a breath he did not know he was holding.

 

“Good lord, you look just like her.”

 

Kyungsoo did not know who Jiwoo thought he looked like, he wondered if perhaps he was affirming to his mother.

 

“Are you well?” Jiwoo asked.

 

“Yes.” answered Kyungsoo monotonically.

 

“Do they take good care of you?”

 

“Yes.”

 

He rubbed his forehead fretfully as he looked him over.

 

“You are very thin,” he said.

 

“I am getting fatter,” Kyungsoo answered, in what he knew was his stiffest way.

 

What an unhappy face his uncle had! His black eyes seemed as if they scarcely saw him, as if they were seeing something else, and he could hardly keep his thoughts upon the boy.

 

“I’ve forgotten about you,” he said. “How could I remember you? I intended to send you a governess or nurse or someone of that sort, but I forgot.”

 

“P-please.” began Kyungsoo. “Pleaseー” and then the lump in his throat choked him.

 

“What do you want to say?” Jiwoo inquired.

 

“I amーI am too big for a nurse,” said Kyungsoo. “And pleaseーplease don’t make me have a governess yet. I can read and write by myself.”

 

Jiwoo rubbed his forehead again and stared at him.

“What do you want to do?”

 

“I want to play out of doors,” Kyungsoo answered, hoping that his voice did not tremble. “It makes me hungry here, I feel stronger when I play and the wind comes over the Moors.”

 

“Where do you play?” he asked next.

 

“Everywhere,” gasped Kyungsoo. “Jina’s mother sent me a skipping-rope. I skip and runー and I look about to see if things are beginning to stick up out of the earth. I don’t do any harm,” his voice wavered and his eyebrows rose in worry.

 

“Don’t look so frightened,” Jiwoo said in a soft voice. “You could do any harm, a child like you! You may do what you like.”

 

Kyungsoo put his hand up to his throat because he was afraid his uncle might see the lump which had formed there. “May I?” he said tremulously. His anxious little face seemed to worry Jiwoo more than ever.

 

“Of course you may!” he answered reassuringly. “I am your guardian, though a poor one for any child. I cannot give you time or attention, I am too ill, and wretched and distracted, but I wish you to be happy and comfortable,” his beady black eyes softened and a smile formed which made him seem much less intimidating.

 

“I don’t know anything about children, but Anne is to see that you have all you need.”

 

Jiwoo pondered for a little while, deep in thought. Kyungsoo had completely misjudged his uncle, though he was scared of him at first, giving him the impression of a nasty old man that didn’t care for him, Kyungsoo could see that Jiwoo was trying hard to make him comfortable.

 

“Play out of doors as much as you like. It’s a big place, and you may go where you like and amuse yourself as you like. Is there anything you want?” As if a sudden thought had struck him. “Do you want toys, books, dolls?”

 

“I have enough books in the library to keep me company for many years,” Kyungsoo said. “Might I,” he quavered, “might I have a bit of earth?”

 

In his eagerness he did not realise how queer the words would sound and that they were not the ones he had meant to say. Jiwoo looked quite startled.

 

“Earth,” he repeated. “What do you mean?”

 

“To plant seeds in─to make things growーto see them come alive,” Kyungsoo faltered.

 

Jiwoo gazed at his nephew for a moment and then passed his hand quickly over his eyes.

 

“Why do youーcare about gardens so much?” he said slowly.

 

“I didn’t have them in London,” said Kyungsoo. “I was always ill and tired, and every once in a while the nuns would place flowers in vases around the orphanage and I would sit and watch them wilter. I always wanted to watch them grow.”

 

Kim Jiwoo got up and began to walk slowly across the room.

 

“A bit of earth,” he said to himself and Kyungsoo thought that somehow he must have reminded the elder of something. When he stopped and spoke to him his dark eyes looked almost soft and kind.

 

“You can have as much earth as you want,” he said. “You remind me of someone else who loved the earth and things that grow. When you see a bit of earth you want,” with something like a smile, “take it, child, and make it come alive.”

 

“May I take it from anywhereーif it’s not wanted?”

 

“Anywhere,” Jiwoo answered. “You must go now, I am tired.” He touched the bell to call Anne. “I shall be away all summer.”

 

Anne came so quickly that Kyungsoo thought she must have been waiting in the corridor.

 

“Anne,” Jiwoo said to her, “now I have seen the child I understand. Give him simple, healthy food. Let him run wild in the gardens. Don’t look after him too much, he needs liberty and fresh air and romping about. Once he reaches the age of ten, he will have a governess.”

 

Anne looked pleased. She was relieved to hear she need not to look after Kyungsoo too much. She had seen as little of him as she dared and felt that he was a tiresome charge.

 

“Yes sir,” she said, smiling to herself.

 

“Take Master Kyungsoo away now and send Pitcher to me.” Jiwoo replied.

 

 

 

 

When Kyungsoo reached his room, he went straight to the window and watched the winter sun already setting. He didn’t realise he was gone so long with his uncle that it was now too late for him to go back outside.

 

He ate his dinner in his room with Jina by his side, she was keen to hear all about his appointment with Kim Jiwoo.

 

“I can have my own garden!” cried Kyungsoo, a mouthful of roast potatoes causing his cheeks to rise like a hamster’s. “I may have it wherever I want! I am not going to have a governess for a long time, he said a little boy like me could not do any harm and I may do whatever I like―anywhere!”

 

“Eh!” said Jina, delighted, “that was nice of him, wasn’t it?”

 

“He really is a nice man, only his face is so miserable and his forehead is all drawn together,” said Kyungsoo solemnly.

 

That night, he lay awake thinking about his own garden, filled with all the flowers he and Jongin planted. A warm smile crept upon his face when he thought of the elder.

 

 

 

 

 

In the morning when the sky was blue again, Kyungsoo awoke very early. The sun was pouring in slanting rays through the curtains and there was something so joyous in the sight of it that he jumped out of bed and ran to the window.

 

He drew the curtains and opened the window itself, and a great waft of fresh, scented air blew in upon him. The moor was blue and the whole world looked as if something magic had happened to it. There were tender little fluting sounds here and there, as if scores of birds were beginning to tune up for a concert. Kyungsoo put his hand out of the window and held it in the sun.

 

“It’s warmーwarm!” Kyungsoo beamed, seeing the sun for the first time in what felt like years put him in such a good mood. “The sun will make the bulbs and roots work and struggled with all their might under the earth.”

 

He kneeled down and leaned out of the window as far as he could, breathing big breaths and sniffing the air. It was very early, the clouds were pink with a promise of a beautiful day. A sudden thought made him scramble to his feet.

 

“I’m going to see the garden!”

 

He had dressed himself, rather messily, into a shirt with a peter pan collar and slacks with suspenders keeping them up. While digging around in his wardrobe, he came across an old straw hat made for adults. He put it on his head and looked at his reflection in the mirror, smiling to himself. It was a little big so he tied the two pieces of ribbon into a knot under his chin to keep it in place.

 

Too excited to wait for his breakfast and morning bath, Kyungsoo left his room after putting a jumper on and made his way downstairs to the hall and put on his shoes, unchained and unblocked the large door, and as soon as it was open he sprang across the step with one bound.

 

There he was standing on the grass, which seemed to have turned green, with the sun pouring down on him and warm, sweet wafts about him and the fluting and twittering and singing coming from every bush and tree. He clasped his hands out of pure joy and looked up at the sky, it was covered in concoctions of blue and pink, pearly and flooded with springtime light. It was spellbinding. Kyungsoo felt that he should flute and sing aloud himself, and ran around the shrubs and paths towards the secret garden.

 

“It is different already, as if a magic spell was cast over night,” he said. “The grass is greener and things are sticking up everywhere.”

 

The long warm rain overnight had done strange things to the herbaceous beds which bordered the walk by the lower wall. There were shoots sprouting and pushing out from the roots of clumps of plants and there glimpses of royal purple and yellow unfurling among the stems of crouses. Months ago Master Kyungsoo would not have seen how the world was waking up, but now he missed nothing.

 

When he had reached the door to the garden, he was startled by a curious loud sound. It was the caw of a crow and it came from the top of the wall, and when he looked up, there sat a big, glossy-plumaged black bird, looking down at him very wisely indeed. He had recognized the crow from the first time he met Jongin.

 

The crow spread his wings and flapped away across the garden, he pushed the door open and stepped inside. He noticed the crow had alighted on a dwarf apple tree, and under the apple tree was lying a little reddish animal with a bushy tail, both of the animals were watching the stooping body and sun kissed skin of Jongin, who was kneeling on the grass working hard.

 

Kyungsoo ran across the grass to him.

 

“Jongin! Oh, Jongin!” he cried out. “How could you get here so early, the sun has only just got up!”

 

He got up himself, laughing and glowing.

 

“I was up long before the sun, the Moor went mad for joy when he arrived, as if he were feeding the sprouts breakfast.  I was in the midst of heather, and I ran like mad, shouting and singing. I came here, can you believe how much has grown since yesterday?”

 

Kyungsoo put his hands on his chest, panting, as if he had been running himself.

 

“Do you think there was a little bit of magic in the rain pour last night?” Kyungsoo said, “Oh, I’m so happy I can scarcely breathe! My uncle said I can have my garden, I can plant as much as I like!”

 

Seeing him talking to a stranger, the little bushy-tailed animal rose from its place under the tree and came to him, and the rook, cawing once, flew down from its branch and settled quietly on Jongin’s shoulder.

 

“This is the little fox cub I have mentioned,” he said, rubbing the little reddish animal’s head. “His name is Juniper, like the berry. You remember Soot, he flew across the moor with me.”

 

Kyungsoo reached out to let Juniper sniff his hand. He was still wary of animals especially ones with large claws and teeth, but neither of the creatures looked as if they were the least afraid of him. When Jongin began to walk about, Soot stayed on his shoulder and Juniper trotted quietly close to his side.

 

“Look here!” said Jongin. He threw himself upon his knees and Kyungsoo went down beside him. They had come upon a whole clump of crocuses burst into purple, orange and gold. Kyungsoo bent his face down and kissed them.

 

They ran from one part of the garden to another and found so many wonders that they were obligated to remind themselves that they must whisper or speak low, as they didn’t want anyone to find out their secret.

 

Jongin showed Kyungsoo swelling leaf-buds on rose branches which had seemed dead. He showed him ten thousand new green points pushing through the mould. They put their curious noses close to the earth and sniffed its warmed springtime breathing; they dug and pulled and laughed low with rapture until Kyungsoo’s hair was as tumbled as a nest.

 

Jongin had bought packets of seeds and showed Kyungsoo how to plant them, then planted bulbs and spread the soil over them in every nook and cranny.

 

 

There was every joy on earth in the Secret Garden that morning, and in the midst of them came a delight more delightful than all, because it was more wonderful. Swiftly, something flew across the wall and darted through the trees to a close-grown corner, a little flare of red-breasted bird with something hanging from its beak. Jongin stood quite still and put his hand on Kyungsoo almost as if they had suddenly found themselves laughing in a church.

 

“We mustn't stir,” he whispered. “We mustn’t scarce breathe. I know he was looking for a mate when I saw him last. He’s building his nest, he’ll stay here if we don’t fright him off.”

 

They settled down softly upon the grass and sat there without moving.

 

“It’s part of springtime, nest building,” he said. “It’s been going on in the same way every year since the world was begun.”

 

A small breeze lightly brushed through Kyungsoo’s hair and Jongin stopped to watch the sun beaming down on his porcelain skin.

 

“Tell me, how was your meeting with Kim Jiwoo?”

 

“Oh! Well he’s not as scary as people make him out to be. He’s actually very nice. He said I don’t need a governess for a long time and that I can spend as much time outdoors as I wish,” Kyungsoo replied happily.

 

The fox was lying on the grass close by Jongin looking up to ask for a pat now and then, he bent down and rubbed his neck softly and thought a few minutes in silence. Presently he lifted his head and looked round the garden.

 

“When we first got in here,” he said, “it seemed like everything was grey.”

 

“The grey wall is changing. It is as if a green mist were creeping over it. It’s almost like a green gauze veil.” said Kyungsoo.

 

“It’ll be greener and greener until all they greys gone.” Jongin replied happily.

 

They spent the rest of the morning finding more and more flowers sprouting through the earth, Kyungsoo didn’t mind the dirt under his fingernails and he didn’t cry or run away when he dug up a nest of bugs. Jongin had taught him so much about the world and that everything was wonderful and beautiful. He never felt any safer than when he was with Jongin.

 

They found a great deal to do that morning, so much so that Kyungsoo was late in returning to the house and had missed breakfast. He was in a such a hurry to get back to his work that he almost forgot lunch, but Jina made him stay and eat something to keep his energy for the rest of the day. He told her all about the animals Jongin had showed off and that the Moors were beginning to bloom. Oh what a small rainpour could do!

 

The afternoon was even lovelier and busier than the morning had been. Already nearly all the weeds were cleared out of the garden and most of the roses and trees had been pruned or dug about. Jongin had brought a spade of his own, and had taught Kyungsoo to use all his tools, so that by this time it was plain that through the lovely wild place was not likely to become a “gardener’s garden” but a wilderness of growing things before the springtime was over.

 

“They’ll be apple-blossoms and cherry-blossoms overhead.” Jongin said, working away with all his might. “And there’ll be peach and plum trees bloom against the walls and the grass will be a carpet of flowers.”

 

“I want to stay here forever, I wish I could sleep on a bed of lavender under the moon and wake up to the songbird. I hope we can stay here forever.” Kyungsoo said dreamily.

 

The little fox and crow were as happy and busy as they were, the robin had found a mate and they were flying backwards and forwards like tiny streaks of lightning. Sometimes the crow flapped his black wings and soared away over the treetops in the park. Each time he came back and perched near Jongin and cawed several times as if he were relating his adventures, and Jongin talked to him just as he had talked to the robin.

 

When the sun was beginning to set and sending deep gold-coloured rays slanting under the trees they decided to part.

 

“It’ll be fine tomorrow,” said Jongin. “I’ll be at work by sunrise.”

 

“So will I. And I’ll bring a book so we can continue our reading, I want to make a diary of everything that blooms in here.” said Kyungsoo.

 

He ran back to the house as quickly as his feet would carry him. He wanted to talk all evening to Jina about his afternoon, he was sure that she would like to hear. So it was not very pleasant when he opened the door of his room to see Jina standing waiting for him with a doleful face.

 

“He’s been asking for you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soooo i decided to post my story here as well as aff, i hope you enjoy my story :)


	9. Jealousy.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this chapter hasn't been beta'd as my beta is away. So i apologise for the mess.

“What is the matter?” Kyungsoo asked, “What did Minseok say?”

Jina’s eyes creased as she sighed very deeply. “He has been having tantrums for days! Anne doesn’t know what to do anymore when she's not there he asks me to bring you. He said he wants his cousin.” The elder sat down and put her head in her hands, realising another huge sigh. “If I was to take you to him I could lose my place here! What will Mother say?”

Kyungsoo crept towards his handmaid, he wanted to comfort her but he didn’t know how to. So instead he stood close by fumbling with his fingers.

“No one would ever find out. I’m quite good at hiding secrets.” He whispered out loud. “I won’t tell anyone it was you.” Kyungsoo’s lips pinched together. He missed his cousin and wanted to know so much more about him, being told he’s not to see his own family seems rather barbaric to him. 

“He’s been crying for you, I can’t take it anymore.”

“Let me go to him. If Anne catches me, I won’t mention you. I promise” Kyungsoo said pulling his pinky finger out and smiling at his handmaid. He was missing his two front teeth, which fell out quite recently, leaving his gums a little sore. 

Jina smiled softly at the boy and hooked her own pinky with his. “Go now. Anne is in her sitting room and she won’t be visiting him for another two hours.”

Kyungsoo beamed and spun around, leaving the room with excitement and nervous. He dared run, in case he would be heard. So he crept through the long hallways and tiptoed up the creaky stairs. He had forgotten the way a few times, as now it was light and the walls seemed to have moved overnight. 

When he reached Minseok’s room, he was sitting on his sofa. He did not turn his head towards his cousin as he came in. This was a bad beginning and Kyungsoo marched up to him.

“Why didn’t you come when I called for you?” Minseok said, he was in his nightdress and Kyungsoo noticed deep circles under his eyes. 

“When Jina found out she scolded me and told me never to come back, but she told me you had been crying and asking for me, so she let me come here. Anne doesn’t know.”

“Even if she did know, she can’t do anything. My father owns this house and the maids must do everything I tell them to.” Minseok replied annoyed. “Why didn’t you come?”

“I was in the garden with Jongin.” 

Minseok frowned and condescended to look at him.

 

“I won’t let that boy come here if you go and stay with him instead of coming to talk to me,” he said.

Kyungsoo flew into a fine passion. He could fly into a passion without making a noise. He just grew sour and obstinate and did not care what happened. 

“If you send Jongin away, I’ll never come into this room again,” he retorted.

Minseok huffed and threw himself back onto the sofa laying down lazily. Kyungsoo didn’t understand why his cousin was being so cruel and strange. If they had been two little street boys they would have sprung at each other and had a rough-and-tumble fight. As it was, they did the next thing to it.

“You are a selfish thing!” cried Minseok.

“What are you?” said Kyungsoo. “Selfish people always say that. Anyone is selfish who doesn’t do what they want. You’re more selfish than I am. You’re the most selfish boy I ever saw.”

“I’m not!” snapped Minseok, “I’m not as selfish as your fine Jongin is! He keeps you playing in the dirt when he knows I am all by myself. He’s selfish, if you like!”

Kyungsoo’s eyes flashed fire. 

“He’s nicer than any other boy that ever lived,” he said. “He’sㅡhe’s like an angel!” It might sound rather silly to say that out loud, but he did not care.

“A nice angel!” Minseok sneered ferociously. “He’s nothing but a common cottage boy off the moor!”

“He’s better than a jealous kid that won’t leave his room!” retorted Kyungsoo. “He’s a thousand times better!”

Because he was the stronger of the two, he was beginning to get the better of his spiteful cousin. The truth was that Minseok had never had a fight with anyone like himself in his life, and, upon the whole, it was rather good for him, though neither he nor Kyungsoo knew anything about that. He turned his head on the sofa and shut his eyes and a big tear was squeezed out and ran down his cheek. He was beginning to feel pathetic and sorry for himselfㅡnot for anyone else.

“I’m not as selfish as you, because I’m always ill. I’m going to die!”

“You’re ill because you never leave this room!” said Kyungsoo.

Minseok opened his eyes quite wide with indignation. He had never heard such a thing said before. He was at once furious and slightly pleased, if a person could be both at the same time. 

“I can’t leave! The doctor won’t allow it! The maids won’t! Even my father!” 

“I don’t believe it!” said Kyungso sourly. “You just say that to make people sorry. I believe you’re proud of it. If you were a nice boy it might be trueㅡbut you’re too nasty!”

Minseok sat up in quite a healthy rage.

“Get out of the room!” he shouted, and he caught hold of a cushion and threw it at him. He was not strong enough to throw it far, and it only fell at Kyungsoo’s feet, but the elder boy’s face looked as pinched as a nutcracker. 

“I’m going,” he said. “And I won’t come back!”  
He walked to the door, and when he reached it he turned around and spoke again.

“I was going to tell you all sorts of nice things,” he said. “Jongin bought his fox and his rook and I was going to tell you all about them. You called for me and got jealous and mean, now I won’t tell you a single thing!”

He marched out of the door and closed it behind him.

 

 

 

Kyungsoo went back to his room not feeling at all as he had felt when he had come in from the garden. He was cross and disappointed, but not at all sorry for Minseok. He had looked forward to telling him a great many things, and he had meant to try to make up his mind whether it would be safe to trust him with the great secret. He had been beginning to think it would be, but now he had changed his mind entirely. He would never tell him about the garden and Minseok could stay in his room and never get any fresh air and die if he liked! It would serve him right! He felt so sour and unrelenting that for a few minutes he sat tugging on his hair pulling out strands between his fingers. Once he thought about Jongin and the green veil creeping over the world and the soft wind blowing down from the moor.

Jina had soon appeared carrying a wooden box, Kyungsoo’s troubled face had been temporarily replaced by interest and curiosity when Jina removed the cover and revealed that it was full of neat packages.

“Master Jiwoo send it to you,” said Jina. “It looks as if it has picture-books in it.”

Kyungsoo remembered when he had asked him the day he had gone to his room. “Do you want anythingㅡdollsㅡtoysㅡbooks?” He climbed down from the bed and opened the package wondering if he had sent a doll, and also wondering what he should do with it if he had. But he had not sent one. There were several beautiful books such as Minseok had, and two of them were about gardens and were full of pictures. There were two or three games and there was a beautiful little writing case with a gold monogram on it and a gold pen and ink-stand. 

Everything was so nice that his pleasure began to crowd his anger out of his mind. He had not expected his uncle to remember him at all, and his hard little heart grew quite warm.

“I can write better than I can print.” he said, “and the first thing I shall write with that pen will be a letter to tell him I am much obliged.”

If he had been friends with Minseok he would have ran to show him his presents at once, and they would have looked at the pictures and read some of the gardening books and perhaps tried playing the games.

“He has been so cross today. I said I would never go back againㅡ” he hesitated, knitting his browsㅡ “but perhaps I will go back, once he’s cooled down. I will go back after a few days.”

 

 

Of course, Kyungsoo did not waken early the next morning. He slept late because he was tired, and when Jina bought his breakfast he decided to eat it in bed. 

“All that running around outside has worn you out.” She said, the handmaid took out Kyungsoo’s clothes ready for the day. He wanted to tell Jina about Minseok’s outburst but he was scared he would get the younger into trouble no matter how cross he is with him. 

He ran to the gardens, the soft wind woke him up and he let his hands touch the flowers and long grass as he ran through the fields. Once he entered the garden he saw that Jongin was already there, the fox and crow were with him again, and this time he had brought two tame squirrels. 

“I came over on the pony this morning,” he said. “Whiskey is growing well. I bought these two in my pockets, this here is Nutkin and this one is Ginger.” 

When he said Nutkin one squirrel leapt onto his right shoulder, and when he said Ginger the other leapt onto his left shoulder. Kyungsoo was astonished once again with Jongin’s gentle nature with animals and the world around them. 

When they sat down on the grass with Juniper curled at their feet, Soot solemnly listening on a tree and Nutkin and Ginger nosing about close to them, it seemed to Kyungsoo that it would be scarcely bearable to leave such delightfulness, but when he began to tell his story about his cousin somehow the look in Jongin’s funny face gradually changed his mind. He could see he felt sorry for Minseok than he did. He looked up at the sky and all about him.

“Just listen to them birds, the world seems full of them一all whistling and piping,” he said. “Look at them darting about, and hearken at them calling to each other. Come springtime seems like as if all the world's calling. The leaves are uncurling so you can see them, and that poor lad lying shut up seeing so little that he gets to thinking of things that set him screaming and angry. We must get him out here一we must get him listening and snigging up the air and get him soaked through with sunshine.”

“Yes, we must.” Kyungsoo agreed. He wondered what he could do to let Minseok out of that dark room, he couldn’t imagine spending his whole life beyond those four walls. He couldn’t imagine a life without feeling the sun on his skin, the wind blowing through his hair and the smell of rain on damp earth. 

The garden had reached the time when every day and every night it seemed as if Magicians were passing through it drawing loveliness out of the earth and the boughs with wands. Nutkin had crept onto his trousers and Ginger had scrambled down the trunk of the apple tree they sat under and stayed there looking at him with inquiring eyes. 

Kyungsoo was so enticed with everything around him he didn’t notice Jongin smelling his hair and neck.

“You smell like flowers.” he said, giving the younger a grin. Kyungsoo’s cheeks felt hot from the compliment. 

The two stayed in the garden under the apple tree until it was lunch time. Kyungsoo didn’t know why, but he always felt a pang of sadness in his chest whenever he had to say goodbye to Jongin. Before they parted from each other, Jongin took out a handkerchief from his pocket and bought it to Kyungsoo’s lips.

“Your lips are bleeding. The cold air must have chapped them. Keep it.” He said softly, and then they separated to their warm homes with lunch by the fire. 

After Kyungsoo scoffed down his bread and butter pudding, he decided that he would go and see Minseok if he could sneak past the maids. He wanted to be sure that his cousin wasn’t cross anymore and that he could convince him to come outside. He waited until Anne had left to her sitting room and made his way through the large house. 

When he reached Minseok’s door, he stayed outside for a few minutes listening in. The room was silent, he slowly opened the door to see Minseok sitting at a table with a large puzzle. 

The two made a very uncomfortable stare at each other, Kyungsoo fiddled with his fingers and made his way to sit next to his cousin. They did not speak for a long time, eventually Kyungsoo helped Minseok with his puzzle, finding the tricky parts and replacing the wrong pieces with the correct ones.

When they had finished, Minseok felt relaxed and he put out his hand a little towards Kyungsoo, the elder was softened too, and met him halfway with his hand, so that it was a sort of making up. 

“I want to go out with you Kyungsoo,” Minseok said. “I want to feel the fresh air and I shall like to see Jongin and the fox and the crow.”

“Squirrels.” Kyungsoo mumbled.

“What?”

“Today he had squirrells. Nutkin and Ginger. They sat on my shoulders and their fur is ever so soft.” 

The two boys shared a burst of laughter at how silly it sounded. 

“I should like to go,” Minseok said when the two had finished their giggles. “I have read so many books of the outdoors I can’t even imagine what it is like, to hear a songbird, to smell the earth.”

Kyungsoo smiled at his cousin, “I would be happy to show you what I have found.”

“What did you find? Oh, please tell me all about outside. I want to know everything. I want to know everything about Jongin, too.” Minseok replied with such bewilderment in his voice he sounded like a tiny child. 

“Close your eyes,” Kyungsoo replied, he sat back and got comfortable, Minseok placed his hand in his. 

“There’s a long path through the gardens, surrounded by bushes and trees. During the winter everything was dead but now there are daffodils and lilies and snowdrops. Everywhere you look you’re surrounded by bloom. Like a fairytale had come out of the storybook.” Minseok smiled at the image in his head.  
“And I found it, behind the ivy. There was a door, a secret door.”

“What was it?” Minseok stopped him again as excited as he was himself.

“A garden. A secret garden that has been locked up for years.”

“Is it dead?” he interrupted the elder.

“I thought it was, but I showed Jongin and he told me that it was alive. We cleared it and planted seeds and made it all come alive.”

Minseok lay quite still and listened while he continued on talking about the roses which have clambered from tree to tree and hung downーabout the many birds which have built their nests there because it was so safe. And then he told him all about the robin, how he communicated with him. He told him all about the seeds they planted and how Jongin showed him how to plant bulbs. 

“I wish I was friends with the Robin. I’ve never had anything to be friends with, and I can’t bear people.” Minseok said.

“Can’t you bear me?” Kyungsoo asked.

“Yes I can,” he answered. “It’s funny, but I even like you.”

Minseok put out his thin hand and touched him.

“Kyungsoo,” he said. “I wish I hadn’t said what I did about sending Jongin away. I hated you when you said he was like an angel and I laughed at you, butーbut perhaps he is.”

“Well, it was rather funny to say it,” Kyungsoo admitted frankly, “because he has long hair and his clothes have patches all over themーbut if an angel did come to the moors I believe he’d understand the green things and know how to make them grow and he would know how to talk to the wild creatures as Jongin does.”

“I want to see him.” said Minseok.

“I’m glad you said that,” answered Kyungsoo, “I should go now. If Anne comes to check on me and see’s I’m not there she’ll have a fit.”

“I hope next time we meet I can come with you to the garden.” Minseok replied sleepily. It was near dusk and the clouds painted a pretty peachy pink in the sky as the sun set.

“Of course.” Kyungsoo replied, he left Minseok to continue his puzzle and shut the door gently behind him. 

He made his way back to his room, the corridors where now lit with gas lamps hanging on the walls and a few lanterns scattered on small tables and windowsills. He approached the large tapestry that was used to cover a door, and when he pulled it across Anne was standing on the other side looking very cross, hands on her hips.

“What do you think you are doing?” she hissed, grabbing the small boy by the arm and dragging him down the corridor. 

“What did I tell you about poking about?” Anne continued to scold the boy until they reached his room. She pushed him in and closed the door. Kyungsoo heard a set of keys jiggling around along with his door being locked. In the moment he wasn’t sure what was going on, and why Anne locked him in. 

“You will stay in your room until the morning! Wait until your uncle hears about this.” 

Her footsteps faded as she walked away from the door and Kyungsoo couldn’t do anything but bang on his door.

He felt angry, tired and upset. Why was Anne so cruel towards him? Would his uncle scold him and send him away? The thoughts went around his head for minutes until he sat down on the floor and cried. He was so scared of being sent away and never seeing Jongin or the garden ever again. He then got up and started banging on all the walls, hoping Jina would hear him and save him. He felt isolated and couldn’t breathe being locked away. 

His banging on the tapestry walls continued, he reached the corner of his room kicking and screaming at the wall and suddenly, almost out of nowhere, something behind the tapestry moved. He stopped still, eyes streaming and cheeks red, he pulled the curtain away and saw a small door, big enough for a small child was behind the tapestry. 

Curiously, he pushed the door but couldn’t see anything, so he grabbed a gas lamp and ventured into the mysterious hidden room. 

Except it wasn’t a room. It was a corridor. He walked ever so gently, and so quietly in fear of being caught out his room. The corridor lead to another small door, he pushed it gently and it too was covered in a tapestry. He peeked through the edge of the material and saw that he was on the landing of the second floor. He couldn’t believe it! He had his very own secret escape right in his room! If he was to be locked away all day tomorrow he could walk through his secret escape and slide past the maids and out the backdoor and no one would ever notice.

He made his way back to his room and made sure to cover the door so no one would find out his discovery. 

When he got into bed he pondered for awhile who built the house, he wanted to know why his room had a secret corridor and why there was so many rooms built. He wondered if a big happy family used to live here a long time ago and then he wondered if the people in the portraits in his room and around the entire house were the people who used to live there. 

He was contemplating so hard that he felt sleepy and soon dozed off under the cotton white sheets, dreaming about exploring castles and playing with fairies in secret gardens.

 

 

 

It was a week before Kyungsoo was allowed to go outside and play. Anne made him stay in his room with only books to keep him company and Jina for a short while whenever she would come and bring his meals. She was upset when she found out Kyungsoo had been locked in his room and blamed herself for letting the boy go. 

When he finally saw Jongin, he couldn’t help but throw himself in his arms. He had missed the elder a substantial amount and just being in his arms made him feel safe again. 

They sat under a plum tree, which was snow white with blossoms and musical with bees. There were flowering cherry trees near and apple trees whose buds were pink and white, and here and there one had burst open wide. Between the blossoming branches of the trees bits of blue sky looked down like wonderful eyes. 

Kyungsoo told Jongin everything, about Minseok, Anne and being locked in his room. He told him about the secret passage and his curiosity about the house. 

“Despite everything I am glad that you’re here,” Jongin said. “And I can’t wait to meet your cousin, I’m glad that he has changed his mind about the outside world.”

“Me too,” Kyungsoo replied. 

The two sat in the garden for the whole day, it was starting to come alive for the first time in a very long time. 

“Which are your favourite flowers?” Kyungsoo asked, he had been admiring the hydrangeas petals which were a marvelous shade of blue and pink. He loved the way the two colours contrasted with each other.

“I love them all. But my favourite would have to be the wildflowers.” Jongin exclaimed, pointing to a bed of wild Chamomile and Agrimony.

“Why are they you’re favourite?” the younger asked, he didn’t think they were as spectacular as the hydrangeas or snapdragons.

“Because they grow freely without human intervention,” Jongin replied smiling. “But most of all because they remind me of you.”

“Why?”

“Because most people think they are weeds or a nuisance, they are misunderstood, yet the most beautiful flowers, as are you.”


End file.
